


Tempting Fate

by debronze



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Hero/Villain, Hurt/Comfort, kim is 18 from the beginning, tags to be added as the story progresses, this is also post! Gorilla Fist but not immediately after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:55:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 90,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25308577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debronze/pseuds/debronze
Summary: Team Possible is forced to ask for help from Monkey Fist who has just one condition to be met.
Relationships: Monkey Fist/Kim Possible
Comments: 54
Kudos: 19





	1. A Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> So I didn’t think I’d be making another story so soon…especially ANOTHER multi-chapter one but here we are. This was inspired by Slush who helped throw ideas back and forth with me, so thank you! And just as well there are some elements inspired by wanderingquill from over on Tumblr! This IS another Monkey Fist/Kim Possible ship story. It is not going to be a slow burn, so just be ready for that. I’ll also be certain to add notes/tags where I will need to warn y’all of any triggering content in relative chapters. Other than that, please enjoy!

“I _do_ have a front door, Kimberly.”

It’s not often she finds herself spooked by the very person she seeks to pursue. Of course, this is no _ordinary_ person. If there were anyone on Earth able to detect years of stealth both from mission and the very nature of being a teen, it _would_ be him. And so she allows the initial chill of his voice to shake from her, even though she has now very much crossed the point of no return. Not even the mountain of doubts that grew ever higher in her journey to this very spot have succeeded in stopping her. Yet here she stands now, in the lion’s den, thinking to offer a meal when in reality she herself is _it._

All of this wouldn’t be the case if not for her recent failures in catching the now notorious thief taking Europe by storm. The culprit was slippery and careful– practically a ghost that saw both Ron and herself at a loss. They were always 10 steps ahead, and even when Wade had managed to get the drop on them, it seemed futile. So careful to avoid the girl who can do anything, as well as Global Justice tasking her with bringing the criminal in. All were at their wits end, left scratching their heads and with wounded pride as this was proving to be one of the most challenging tasks they’ve yet to face.

It was Wade who had presented the idea. Taking into consideration the items and locations of where this villain was targeting. That perhaps it was time to reach out to someone both familiar and skilled enough to offer support. It’s an uncomfortable idea, being that the very experts they’d reached out to did not possess the necessary means of helping them. No researcher, or archaeologist had any insight on just how to tackle the problem, and were…well…unfit to physically assist in the field just as well.

It was clear where the trail was headed. Both her, Ron, and the agents from Global Justice wanting to exhaust every effort before ultimately considering the last resort:

**Monkey Fist.**

He checks every box. An expert in the field, a master thief who can think like the very person they are after, and above all…physically able to assist in the apprehension of this anomaly. The full package…if not for the fact that the man himself is a criminal. One of the very worst they had the displeasure of dealing with, giving his violent and obsessive nature. Even if the last time they had dealt with the man was _somewhat_ cordial. If fighting a common enemy could even be considered…cordial. After that meeting with DNAmy however, the man’s efforts had been left very much under the radar. His name not having made a blip since, which for a while had both concerned and relieved them.

Ron refused as long as he could, knowing what they all did: the man could _not_ be trusted. Nor did he believe Monkey Fist would he be open to helping the very people who had foiled his plans more than once. Kim knew that much as well, but it was only true without _proper_ convincing. And how could anyone convince him when his demands were already so high? He wanted power, the world in the palm of his hand, control over that of the human race. None of which they were going to give him in the slightest. And then came the very hurdle that **_was_** Ron, who at the very least cannot be in the same room as the monkey master. The conflicts pile up high against the potential win of them teaming up…but ultimately it must at least be tried anyway.

Which brings her to his castle deep in the French Alps. Alone. Knowing that if anyone could win over such a dangerous contract, it would be her. She wasn’t entirely alone of course, having back up a few miles out just incase anything turned…sour. But without Ron as a triggering distraction, and coming to home turf willingly, she hopes it proves her offer is serious. The points having been repeated to keep her on track during her conversation with him, making sure that she was prepared for any change of course.

But standing in his dojo and staring at his back as he retains his meditative position sees her briefly lose sight of all of that. A quick look above her sees the monkeys watching from beams in the ceiling, ready to attack if their master so pleases. For now, they allow her presence, just as he does.

“I wasn’t so sure that you’d answer.” She responds then, watching as he inhales deeply before rising and turning to face her.

Immediate regret is what she feels well up inside of her.

Instantly she is reminded of previous meetings, of the way he can move and the vicious strikes that have rattled her in the past. She can hold her own, and she isn’t quite alone…but those facts don’t ease her in the slightest. She is willingly standing in his domain, giving him the upper hand, and it terrifies her that he knows this just as well.

“For you? **_Gladly_**.” The look on his face doesn’t ease the guttural words that escape his throat. A threat that offers a hint of honesty. Kim swallows hard, watching as he steps down from his platform and makes his way closer to her. His stalk coats her in fear as she stands there waiting for the inevitable. But as he passes near her, his sharp eyes like fangs of their own, he simply grins without stepping over that invisible boundary just yet. “Tea?”

She turns to watch him head over to the tea set at her back. He begins pouring his cup, not waiting for an answer to which would have been ‘no’. “This isn’t exactly a personal call, Monkey Fist.”

That sees the man grin, “Oh I’ve no doubt of that– however _disappointing_ that is.” he takes a seat and kicks his legs out, relaxed as the cup is brought to his lips. “Still, you _are_ here. And you’ve got my attention. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

His words are laced with a kindness she doesn’t expect, knowing all too well that it is honey lead straight to a trap of his own creation. She’s here to set the narration, and letting him deviate would be a terrible mistake.

“All over Europe ancient artifacts from galleries, exhibits, and even homes have been stolen. Sound familiar?”

Of course it does. It’s made the news _everywhere_. It’s hurting the rich more than anyone, and they’ve made it a point to tell the world about it. Even she’s convinced it’s one of the primary reasons Global Justice bothered to get involved. _Funding_.

“Mmm…I _may_ have heard a thing or two.” She fights the temptation to roll her eyes at the response, taking in a steady breath and pressing on even through the fear.

“I’m sure you _have_. I’m sure you also know that apprehending him has been…a challenge.” She hates to admit it out loud, knowing that he will only see it for what it is: failure. Monkey Fist chuckles at that, cocking his head to the side and narrowing his eyes.

“Very much so, Miss Possible. It’s been rather enjoyable, what with watching you and your lackey be strung around the continent.” The toothy grin he shares with her confirms that very joy, and she has no doubt that it is shared with many of the other villains in his network. As much as the idea of it frustrates and humiliates her, she glosses over the knowledge and presses on.

“Yeah, I bet you’ve been _loving_ it.” Kim drawls, crossing arms over her chest. “It’s funny. _You_ were our first suspect for a while.”

Monkey Fist cocks his head at that, sitting up in his seat– far more interested now that he is somewhat involved in all of this. Something Kim had counted on. “I do hope you didn’t cling to _that_ idea for long. You are _far_ too clever.”

She’s tempted to smirk at that, even if a compliment from _him_ doesn’t hold too much weight. “I figured you’d lay low after what happened with…well, I guess we didn’t really ever get closure on what it was that you and DNAmy had going on, _did_ we?”

Amusement quickly vanishes from his face, daggers sent her way through deep blue eyes. A touchy subject, it seems. Just another thing the team had banked on using against him. While it was humorous at the time watching him dodge his way out of a potential and sick romance, there’s no doubting the very real threat she posed to him just as well. His response is proof of that. “ ** _Careful,_** Kimberly.”

“It _couldn’t_ be you, is my point. But…we _have_ exhausted all options in finding this guy. Well, almost all.” She drops her arms, visibly struggling to get the words out now that she’s tested the man and her current safety within his presence. “It gave us an idea. To come to _you_ – the very person we initially thought would be involved. Maybe…you could help us.”

He laughs. Throws back his head and lets out a deep, bone-chilling, cackle that sees Kim taking a step back. He jumps to his feet as his laughter settles, disregarding his drink as he approaches the heroine.

“Oh that is simply **_delicious_**.” He growls, getting right up to her face and leaning down to keep her gaze no matter how frightening it is. “What could possibly make you think I’d **_ever_** help you and your little _friends?”_

As much as she wants to put space between her and the man, she finds what’s left of her nerve and endures it. Staring up at him with a set jaw and unwavering resilience. “Some might argue that your work is still considered legendary in your old profession. Maybe I thought there was still a part of you that cares for it still.”

Monkey Fist’s smile turns sour, but his lack of space doesn’t let up. He knows of the very discomfort he’s forcing upon her. The sort of pressure he will seek to maintain through the conversation. It’s almost predictable, but she’s not stupid enough to believe for a moment his potential moves are clear. It’s partly what is so dangerous about him– not quite knowing what to expect yet knowing whatever it is…won’t be good.

“A poor card to play, my dear. Reaching for a past life? Catering to a man you believed was real back in Cambodia?” He brushes past her then, turning to stand at her back and tower over her frame. He leans down to speak into her ear; his warm breath sending a wave of nerves through her chest. She hates it, the advantage he seeks to take even without laying a finger on her. “You will have to work a _little_ harder than **_that_.**”

Hair stands up at the back of her neck at those words, knowing that this was all to be expected. But while it is in some way going according to plan, it doesn’t stop her from feeling completely unprepared. Monkey Fist does back away but only to circle her, clearly entertained now that he’s equipped with such knowledge and weighing the stakes.

“Is that so farfetched for me to believe? Who you _were_ and who you _are_ have nothing to do with it. You worked hard for your achievements.” Well, she can only assume that much as she stands in a castle boasting more than any of the victimized museums had. The man didn’t exactly come from _nothing._ “I know that ** _you_** wouldn’t stand for someone taking that away from you.”

“Ah, and now flattery?” He stops in front of her, hands folded behind his back as he surveys her for a moment. “Oh the pieces are coming together _very_ clearly…” he moves again, continuing his short monologue with a telling smirk, “You leave the fool behind, come to my very home, and deliver to me what you believe is an _unrefusable_ gift. You’re **_desperate_** , Kimberly.”

She knows that he’s loving this. Loving the idea that she is indeed as desperate as he claims, and enough to seek him out of all people for help. His ego is gloating, something she had somewhat hoped for as it was the only way for this to work. Kim needs him to believe that he truly possesses the ability and skill to help get the job done, and while she does indeed believe that, it won’t be so simple convincing him without using that same honey pulled from his very grip.

“I am.” She admits, turning her gaze away and feeling the admission sting while knowing she’d have to make it no matter what. There’s not many ways to lift him up without bringing herself down in the process. It’s something he’ll gravitate to– and she’s not afraid to point that out. “Is that what you want to hear me say? Or is it that knowing your choice will decide whether or not I succeed with this case?”

“ ** _Now_** you’re speaking my language.”

There it is.

Monkey Fist grins, walking back up to her and reaching his hand out. She’s not sure what to expect as he’s been as civil as possible up until that point. But his fingers gently tuck her hair behind her ear, a movement that sees her flush. Alarmed when suddenly curious digits are pulling out the tiny earpiece hidden. “Why don’t we get down to brass tacks, _hm?”_

The device is crushed in his grip before falling out of his hand not unlike the snow peppering his castle. She seizes up, ready to fight at the drop of a hat now that her communication has been severed. It’s something she had prepared for, but not here. Not in this moment with _him_. Of course, the destruction of the device will see that her backup is on its way. But it now crunches her for time, cutting short any plans of carefully working to convince the monkey master that his help is worth his time and effort.

“You knew coming here that I would _never_ agree to such a request. Not when there is nothing in it for _me_.” And he’s _right_ , but that arrogance sees Kim on the defense.

“It’s not beneath me to point out that you **_do_** owe us, Monkey Fist.” She puts space between them, walking past him and towards the entrance to the very room. No intent to leave just yet…but prepared to bolt if needed. “We went back for you. _Helped_ you. Even if you might have deserved whatever fate DNAmy had in store.”

She can admit that it’s a low blow; throwing _that_ in his face. Kim Possible doesn’t operate for the sole purpose of wanting anything in return. Well, at the very least she can appreciate _some_ gratitude, but never has she expected to be owed. In this case however, it’s a different game. It’s Monkey Fist’s game. And she will need to play by _his_ rules if she plans on winning it.

“At the very **_most_** I owe you a hallmark card, and you’ll not even get _that_ from me.” And as amusing as the thought is, Kim makes a face and turns around to stare at him. _Of course_ he’d believe that. Of course he would be _ungrateful_.

“Seriously? Somehow one monkey against three gorillas doesn’t sound like it would have been in **_your_** favor.”

The man lunges then, extending mutated limbs to get him right in front of her with fire ignited within dark eyes. As much of a struggle as it is, she stands her ground, holding out on some small hope that he won’t make this physical if she doesn’t. He’s behaved well enough so far even to her own surprise– surely he won’t crack now…right?

“What you _think_ I owe you will be delivered on my **_own_** terms. Right now, Miss Possible, _you_ need _me_. So, if you’ve no other offer to make, I suggest you be on your way before I grow bored ofplaying nice.”

She’s reminded quickly that she is currently outnumbered, and without access to any immediate help. Coming into this, she knew how it would end. She knew exactly what to say to get him to agree. But it was the one route she didn’t want to take, not without making all other attempts first. Now with the threat heavy in the air, she’s ready to make her move.

“I don’t have another offer.” She admits, meeting his heated gaze with all the courage she can muster. “But maybe _you_ do.”

And there it is. All control handed right over to him. The very gift he’d been waiting for– the one he _can’t_ refuse. His grin proves that. Overly delighted with her decision to hand him the reins. She’s hooked him, and now it’s up to her to simply reel him in.

“What would it _take_ for your help?”

He bites down on his lip at that, nearly salivating at the very idea of it. Stepping back, he massages his jaw and hums softly. He’s in considerable thought, all while he’s studying the cheerleader before him. It’s almost amusing the immediate shift seen in him then, all after sacrificing the one good card in her hand.

“I’ll play _fair_ with you, Kimberly.” He drops his hand then, folding his hands behind his back while watching her carefully. “It may help answer your question if first you answer my own– what exactly do you _require_ of me?”

A fair question, she supposes, but she doesn’t allow one ounce of her to believe he has any further intention of being ‘fair’. “You’d be a part of our task force. Join Ron and I in hunting this guy down and taking him in. And once that’s done, we can pretend it never happened.”

Monkey Fist scoffs at that last part before shaking his head.

“As if we are both so capable of just _letting things go_.” She _hates_ the way he says that. As if the two are so similar in that sense. As if he knew her well enough to make such a claim. She’d be foolish to allow herself to think twice on the comparison and decides to ignore it all together.

“Let’s not divert off the topic. I answered your question.”

“Afraid of just where it will go?” His smile grows at that, a devious thing which forces her gaze to break away from his own.

“What happened to ‘playing fair’?”

“Heh. _Indeed_. Well, I think I _am_ willing to help. On only one condition: I work with you, and you alone. No sidekick. No ‘task force’. No… ** _distractions_**.”

There’s no hiding the shock on her face at such a request. She’d been prepared for just about anything– but not that. She’s painfully aware of the hesitance in taking in that response, clearly not ready for it and within just a few moments coming to fruition with just how bad of an idea that is.

“ _What?_ No. ** _No_**. Those aren’t _options_ , Monkey Fist. You work with _all_ of us.” But not even she can believe her own answer. The request is very much possible, but to what expense?

Alone with the man who has inflicted enough pain upon her and her best friend. The same man who was determined to do anything just to get what he wants. Walking on a high wire with no safety net beneath seemed more appealing in that moment.

“Very well, then. I suppose you’re simply out of luck.” He leaves then. Walks past her and just heads towards the steps. Kim follows, still in a state of disbelief.

“There _has_ to be something else. Something else you _want_.” She climbs up the steps, catching up to him while they both reach the long corridor lined with towering windows. Monkey Fist turns to her, shadows of the snow falling behind those windows drown the both of them.

“Nothing you could **_give_** me, Kimberly. Take a look around you, is there anything not within my possession that I simply couldn’t retrieve myself?” She doesn’t _need_ to look around to answer that question, which only leaves her wondering just what he thinks he’d be getting out of the suggested agreement that he won’t openly say.

He turns to continue walking then, Kim quickly walking at his side and not paying much attention to where they’re headed as she is focused on not giving up on the only chance she has. “And you think that eliminating all _safety_ for me is a fair request?”

“ _You_ see it as safety. _I_ see it as a hinderance. How could I possibly execute the tasks required of me when working with… **_amateurs?_** ”

There’s a compliment hidden in there but she refuses to find it.

“Most of these people are high level agents, they _aren’t_ amateurs.” Kim tries to argue as if that will sway him. _Nothing_ will. She knows deep down that it is helpless. She doesn’t even bother fighting on Ron’s behalf as all parties know just exactly the disaster that would be. But to give up now? It wouldn’t be right.

“An interesting point. Though I suppose if they were such a ‘high level’, they might not need the help of a **_criminal_** or a ** _cheerleader_**. And who is to say that _I_ myself should trust an agency who has surely put a target on my back? Perhaps I’ll ask them myself– they should be arriving any moment.”

Kim clenches her jaw at that. He _knew_ they were coming. Perhaps they had underestimated his security, and just how careful he would be about unwanted visitors after his run in with the geneticist.

“Monkey Fist. _Please_ reconsider. That condition…it just _can’t_ be done.” Her voice very nearly becomes a whine, teetering on the edge as she finds herself willing to do whatever necessary to see this all through as planned.

“Do you _truly_ fear me so?”

“It’s not fear. It’s _trust_. I don’t **_trust_** you.”

“Funny– considering you trusted me to behave here, hm? Trusted I would _listen_ to you. Trusted I would give you an answer whether you liked it or **_not_**. And perhaps trusted that I’d even let you _leave_.”

They arrive at the front doors then, Kim staring upon the great oak and realizing that the opportunity is slipping and _fast_. His hand goes to open it, the cold whip of the mountain lashing at them briefly before Kim sticks her hand out and closes it. She keeps it there, and hates the grin that earns her.

“I don’t trust you enough to work _alone_ with you. I let you fool me once. I’m not going to let you do it again.” She narrows her eyes before pressing her lips and exhaling sharply. A decision needs to be made in that moment, as hard as that comes to be.

“I’m certain you _won’t_. But as it stands…you’ve got a **_burglar_** to catch. So, what will it be, Kimberly?”

———

The crunch of snow can be heard beneath her boots as she walks towards the helicopter. She is glad to be out of the confines of the castle, afraid the man would exercise that very attempt to keep her within it. Not many enemies of hers would be so willing to let her go, least of all **_him_**. And so it does concern her, more so when she climbs aboard to join Ron and the rest of the team. Looking back towards the castle she can see him leaning at the door, the same smug smirk sitting upon his lips. Letting out a breath as they begin lift off, she takes hold of the strap at the ceiling, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“A few more minutes and we would have been charging in there– what exactly happened?” Betty is the first to break the silence, eager to learn of their progression in this complex mission.

“He didn’t do anything. Just…didn’t like the eavesdropping.” She drops her hand and gives them all a shrug. “Okay so…good news is…he said ‘yes’.”

There’s a strange air of relief at that shared amongst the team. It doesn’t last long when they all remember what exactly that means. Help? Great. But from **_him?_** Not so much. And before any of them can ask just what that means and what his demands are, she beats them all to it.

“Bad news is: he won’t work with anyone else. _Just_ me.” She rips the bandaid off, already seeing the reactions before they play out in front of her.

“Not happening.” Ron cuts his hand through the air and shakes his head. “The monkey can **_not_** be trusted.”

“I’m going to have to agree with Ron here, Miss Possible. He’s too dangerous, and there’s no guarantee that we’ll be able to help you if something were to go wrong.” Betty’s voice of reason is even and welcomed with Ron’s not far behind. Of course, one of them **_does_** has a vendetta with Monkey Fist, and they didn’t exactly approve of the idea from the very beginning.

“Believe me, I ** _know_**. But he wasn’t exactly willing to negotiate. He doesn’t want to work with you,” she points at Ron, “and he doesn’t trust any of _you_.” Her hand gestures to the rest of the team who sit there and exchange uncertain glances. “I accepted. But obviously I’m _not_ convinced. I figured I’d leave it up for discussion.”

Betty shares with her a look of concern. “I’m not sure we have much of a say, Kim. It’s _you_ who will need to work with him if you so choose.”

“Which, incase you’ve forgotten, is an **_AWFUL_** and **_TERRIBLE_** idea, KP! There’s no way he isn’t just planning something … _diabolical.”_ Ron slumps back with arms folded over his chest, visibly annoyed by the whole idea.

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” She admits, holding her head as she tries to make sense of it all. “But…we _really_ need to catch this guy. Monkey Fist is our last option, as desperate and dangerous as it is.”

“Well, I think I’m okay with this man of mystery taking what he needs. I mean, he’s not _hurting_ anyone is he?” That comment earns Ron a look from everyone on board who obviously don’t agree with that statement.

“Ron, we still have yet to figure out _why_ he’s taking all of these artifacts. There’s still a job to do even if people aren’t _currently_ in danger. If we can prevent something now, why would we pass on the chance?”

“Well… _fine_. Is there at ** _least_** a way we can be kept close? To make sure you’re protected? Stick a tracker on him? On you? Something that will keep you covered?”

“We have plenty of options in terms of keeping you safe, Kim. My only fear is that, like your ear piece, he may be inclined to dismantle that communication again. And if that happens, we can’t stay close enough for fear of tipping off our culprit. There is risk, Miss Possible. But ultimately it ** _is_** your decision.”

She sighs and nods her head.

“I’m not ready to give up on this. So if Monkey Fist is the way then… let’s do it.”


	2. Pursuit

“He said he would be here. Just…give it a few more minutes.”

Kim waits on the rocky coast and stares up at the mansion sitting over the cliff. Oddly eerie considering that of who resides there; Frederick Kaiser, billionaire philanthropist known for exotic parties and questionable company. But the house is dark. Silent. As if no one were home…just as Monkey Fist had suspected. A house worth hitting, but impregnable while occupied. Mr. Kaiser seemingly never left, overly protective of the prizes hidden within and even more so now that there is news of this thief who is still making headlines. The monkey master had no doubt that he would be the next target considering an annual excursion the home owner had coming up. It was that tidbit of information which further confirmed their decision in approaching him.

But as she stands there with the light spray of cold waves breaking against the shore, she quickly begins to doubt his ‘alliance’. She wouldn’t put it past him to leave her hanging, and so when those few extended moments are up she lets out a frustrated breath and climbs down from the slippery rock while informing the team, “I’m heading in.”

It’s almost a relief that he doesn’t show, as if confirming what she knew would happen all along. Yet the moment her feet touch the ground and she rounds the rock, a breath is stolen from her. A tall figure stands there– covered in black from head to toe.

“Have some patience, Kimberly.” The relief is gone then when she hears that voice. The figure steps forward, pulling down their hood and then the head wrap to reveal her _… partner_.

“You’re late.” Her arms cross over her chest, ignoring the voice going off in her ear about briefing the man who decided to show after all.

“All for good reason.” He assures her, a smirk painted upon his lips as he walks up to her. “But before we get to that, turn it _off_.” He points to her ear, seeing her take a a couple of steps back before he decides to invade her space yet again.

“It stays _on_ , Monkey Fist. We’ll need them.”

“We won’t. They will only be a distraction.” His hand reaches out for her but Kim dodges it and puts up her own hand to keep the space between them. There’s no time to argue, and against her better judgement she bends to his will.

“I’m going silent.” Kim warns the team on the other side before finally folding into the request and pulling the piece from her ear. _Not_ without a sharp gaze sent his way. He doesn’t seem to mind it, grinning madly at the show of reluctant obedience.

“ _Good_. I assume you’ve got a map?”

“Better than that.” She allows him to approach her while retrieving the device from her pocket. He stands over her shoulder, staring down at the screen where an interactive 3D blueprint is shown. “We got ahold of his latest manifest. He keeps a sword claiming to be that of Genghis Khan’s in the main exhibit here.” She points to a large room, “It’s his newest addition– surely what would draw anyone in.”

Monkey Fist snickers, “It would be if it were _real_. This one is a fake. Forged to keep any hunter from looking for the real one which is still very much within the grasp of its _original_ handler. Buried in a location still unknown. The thief **_will_** know that.”

Kim is quietly impressed with that, watching his finger drag over the screen to bring them to a smaller room in the center of the structure.

“In fact, most of what he houses _aren’t_ genuine. But the life of an aristocrat is never a concern for what is real rather than what is _expensive_. There is one thing, however, that might prove grab the thief’s attention. See, Frederick is a… dealer of sorts– his personal collection shipped right to his very doorstep.” The man points to the isolated home which does prove easy to reach by boat. “And not just for _himself_ , but for his _friends_ as well. In control of all manifests that come through these waters. What better to steal than a list of **_more?_** ”

She turns to look up at him then, brows furrowing slightly. It sounds almost _too_ good to be true. The words far more helpful than she would have ever expected. Then again, it was the very reason they had gone to him– wasn’t it?

“You already…scoped the place?”

“Indeed. I also _have_ been here before under the very guise of ‘legendary archeologist’.” she makes a face at that, hating that he throws her own words back at her. But of course he has, and she tries not to let that surprise her too much. “The security _did_ change since the last time, however. He’s no longer reliant on that of… _human_ protection.”

Kim pockets her device, looking back towards the house and folding her arms. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to say robots?”

“ ** _Sentinel_** robots.” Monkey Fist corrects with a smile heard within every syllable. “Lethally programmed. Nothing we can’t handle.”

“We?” Kim turns to him, seeing the delighted look upon his face. “We’re here to _stop_ a crime, not _commit_ one.”

“ _Yes_ , my dear. I’m painfully aware. But do you really think your thief is going to take the chance of setting those things off when he’s got two guinea pigs to do it for him?”

The bewildered look on her face is telling, not quite sure just what he’s getting at. “ _Us?_ ”

“Kimberly. To believe that he isn’t expecting company is already letting him _win_. If he doesn’t already know you are here, we will make it obvious.” Kim walks up to him then, staring into amused eyes that expertly guard any other thoughts behind them.

“Let me get this straight, you want us to distract these killer machines to… ** _help_** this guy?”

“To draw him out. Let him think _he_ has the advantage. Have you any _better_ ideas?”

No. She doesn’t. And while he makes a good point, it’s still a dangerous chance to be taking. Especially since he had forced her to cut out any outside help. There’s not a doubt in her mind that his plan would go over well with any of them.

“None that _you_ would agree with.” Kim mutters, rubbing her temples and sucking in a breath. “Fine. I’ll let you take the lead on this one. _Don’t_ make me regret it.”

“We both know I can’t promise that.” He flashes a grin before pulling the wrap back over his head, leaving just his cold eyes to be seen.

She does notice that both feet and hands are covered as well as a subtle change to his movements. Kim figures he may not want to advertise the brief alliance they’ve formed for the purpose of this mission. That, and she suspects that the man who’s house they’re about to break into isn’t exactly a _former_ friend. Bottom line, Monkey Fist isn’t writing his name on this one no matter how much he contributes.

Following him she can keep an eye out, careful not to distract herself with the lack of trust for her partner. That’s the last thing she needs, letting an opening close due to her own personal conflict. He’s proven a lot as far as information and tactics go, but the moment she allows herself to believe that his intentions are at all pure is the very moment she will see herself betrayed. For now, she will keep those walls up and hope for the best.

Monkey Fist leads them to a freight elevator just at the docks under the cliff. He stops and turns to her with his hand out. “The gun, if you’ll allow me.”

She doesn’t like where this is going. Pulling out her grapnel gun, she hands it over to him and stares up at the tall tower that takes the elevator to the house. It’s definitely not a staircase she’s intent on climbing, and use of the elevator would surely alert all of the wrong attention. Which leaves them the very option which is quickly unfolding. Before she can even prepare for it, a strong arm grabs her by the middle before she is flying through the air. An unsuspecting hand grips onto his shoulder and fists into the fabric there. Clinging onto him while they soar up the cliff and hating that she’s resorted to this.

The moment their feet touch the ground again, Kim is quick to move out of his hold and takes the gun back just as well. “A little _warning_ would be nice next time.”

He doesn’t respond, but she can see in his eyes that he _is_ smiling.

Kim has half a mind to turn the communication back on, to inform her team on the plan as well as let them keep in contact with her. She decides against it, knowing Monkey Fist is depending on her just as well to keep her word. Any broken trust between them will prove catastrophic, that much is certain. So she follows him through the long garden, her eyes shifting towards a figure standing near the perimeter. Breaking off from the man, she heads towards it with curiosity tugging her along. The closer she gets the clearer it is: a tall almost skeleton-like machine with four arms made of long thick blades.

The sentinels.

Monkey Fist didn’t exactly mention just how menacing they appeared. She’s curious as to why they aren’t actively patrolling, and just when the thought comes to her, the man is there to answer.

“They awake to sound.” He stands at her side, staring up at the thing easily towering over the two of them. “Programmed to react to anything their master considers ‘threatening’.”

“How many are there?”

“Only a few. Not that any more is necessary…I’ve _seen_ what they can do. One has proved _more_ than enough.” She feels his hand gently grab her elbow, leading her away from the lethal creation even if her eyes refuse to pry from it.

“That’s not exactly what I want to hear, especially if your plan remains the same.” She pulls her arm from his grip and walks with him, a fear beginning to grow within the depths of her chest.

“And what have you to fear? You are the girl who can do _anything_ , aren’t you?”

“Fighting man-monkeys and machines that have swords for arms are two very different things, Monkey Fist.”

“Are you implying one is more dangerous than the other?”

He stops and turns to her then, insult heard in his tone. That amuses Kim, seeing her smirk and stop along with him.

“One has a _heart_ and…maybe a moral compass? I’d rather take my chances with the one at least _capable_ of having emotion.”

He doesn’t respond to that, but she figures his ego is at least sated for now. And so she continues on towards the house assuming he will follow. Getting in is fairly easy. A horrifying thought that the owner made entering easy so that anyone who dared would then need to fend for themselves against the sentinels.

She stays close to him, trusting that he knows his way around the place. It puts every museum she has been to, to shame. Large and cavernous, with paintings, trinkets and displays placed impressively through the rooms. Some of them fake, as Monkey Fist had pointed out, which does kill the sentiment a bit.

The two move carefully through the quiet house, climbing a massive staircase which takes them to the second level. Less to show off here, as it appears more residential. He takes her into a room and then an office. One with a long balcony that overlooks the main showroom floor.

Two soldiers stand dormant near the sword that sits at the center.

Kim feels herself forget to breathe for a moment, sensing the man come up behind her. “I’ll distract them. You stay here and wait for our friend.”

Instinct sees her hand reaching out to grab his wrist as he walks past her, stopping him before he can leave her completely. “You’re going to fight them alone?”

“I’m going to keep them _busy._ ” He assures her, pausing and tilting his head at her. “You look worried, Kimberly.” She lets go of his wrist then, making a face.

“Just..be careful. Alright?” Not that she doubts his efforts or skill…but the things don’t look nice in the slightest. Villain or not, she doesn’t want to see the man injured or worse at the hands of those machines.

“Have you forgotten who you’re speaking to?” He scoffs, pulling out of her space to swiftly jump over the balcony. She rolls her eyes at the response, afraid that mindset is exactly what will see him in trouble out of all of this. But she goes up to the railing and watches him sauntering up to a vase. Their eyes meet for a moment before he sticks out his hand and knocks it from its post.

It shatters on the ground in a small cloud of dust. Immediately bringing the sentinels to attention.

“Oops.” She can hear Monkey Fist say with amusement, and for a moment it almost is. But that quickly vanishes when she watches the two soldiers light up with their motors whirring.

_“Playback indicates criminal profile.”_

_“Entering combat state.”_

Both machines speak as they approach the man, and Kim finds herself unable to watch in that moment. She takes her place behind a desk, trying not to listen to the conflict happening below and instead focusing on just where their guest will be. Something that might prove easier if an alarm didn’t suddenly go off. The wailing sound nearly deafening– but she figures it was triggered by whatever Monkey Fist’s idea of keeping the machines busy was. It isn’t until she’s popped her head out to survey the room that she realizes the very alarm wasn’t at all triggered by her partner.

But by _him_.

The masked figured who’s arm is searching around inside of a safe hidden by one of the large paintings of the room. She’s never been this close before, the shock to her system slowing the information suddenly being processed in her head. It’s unnerving how much like Monkey Fist the figure appears, being that they are also wearing a ninja’s robe. What separates them is the white kabuki mask strapped to their head. No photo of them has ever spotted it before.

Already she has learned so much, and now is the time to put it all to an end. Her adrenaline runs rampant as she rises then, walking into the thief’s line of vision. “You weren’t going to just leave without saying ‘thank you’, right?”

The figure is only a little startled, turning to look at Kim with a file now held in their hand. “ _That_ doesn’t belong to you.” Kim charges then, taking air as she draws her knee up and prepares to land the kick aimed at their chest. As expected, they’re prepared. Stepping out of the way and following with a strike of their own. The outfit isn’t for show, and she learns that quickly. She feels evenly matched as she both works at defending herself from precise strikes and trying to land them herself.

If not for knowing that Monkey Fist was still with the machines below, she would have had no doubt that the opponent in front of her was him. Less _mouthy_ , of course. The stranger doesn’t utter a word. Not until she’s managed to swipe the folder from him and she hears a guttural sound come from the man. The pace picks up quickly then, backed up towards the balcony where she’s forced to look over her shoulder to make sure she isn’t trapped. But it’s that very move which sees the file flying out of her hand and with two strong hands wrapped around her throat.

Fear encases her then as her own hands desperately claw at the ones trying to cut off her airflow. Her back hits the railing behind her, seeing a pained gasp escape her lungs. She tries to get a leg up, to put distance between him and herself but to no avail. He presses to her with nothing to hold back, and just when she thinks she’s out of luck– a shadow flies overhead.

Monkey Fist stands at the ready, getting the attention of her attacker. Relieved to see him untouched by the machines below, it quickly drains from her as she is then shoved over the balcony in one swift move. There isn’t enough time to pull the grapnel out, and so she lands without much grace upon the marble floors below. Emerald eyes looking up to see the two metal soldiers stalking towards her looking far more menacing than they had when she was safely out of the way. This wasn’t exactly part of the plan, but she supposes she’ll need to trust the monkey master to get the job done while it is her turn to run the distraction.

The place is a mess. And for a moment she can only imagine that conversation to be had between Global Justice and the home owner. That is, if either of them make it out of there alive. Those blades have reach, and so Kim darts out of the way, dodging through display cases and finding height where she can. But hiding up high doesn’t help much when an electric charge is shot in her direction. Monkey Fist had his work cut out for him.

Still, she manages to keep out of the way of swinging blades while trying to find a way to take the machines down. She has her doubts, noting that however long their time spent with Monkey Fist was, it didn’t do anything to hinder them. Finally after time spent avoiding the sentinels, Kim’s eyes land on the broken display where the false sword sits. The very one she had thought would be the grand prize. While she’s managed to keep all limbs intact, she can feel herself getting winded from the defense.

Now, It’s time to _attack_.

Running for the sword, she jumps onto the display and picks it up, quietly admiring how light it feels in her hand. And when one of the machines catches up to her, she swings the blade up and tries cutting through the motor. It hardly leaves a scratch, but it does get her some space. And that’s all she needs. Kim stands her ground, doing her best to keep the robotic soldiers from getting to her with hard strikes and well-timed blocks. Constantly looking towards the office above her, trying to spot either Monkey Fist or the masked man. Neither are in sight which does worry her. The grip on her throat had been unyielding, and even if she knows that the monkey master can take care of himself…it _does_ concern her.

 _There._ A figure jumping down from the balcony. A brief moment sees her reassured that the man is there to help her after perhaps having apprehended the thief. But sight of the white mask quickly kills that hope.

“Hey! Stop!” Kim darts towards him, not willing to let him get away. But the figure drops smoke pellets before she can get too close. And like that, he vanishes.

Kim hardly has a moment to cough the smoke from her lungs when she’s forced to duck again, only this time she doesn’t see the arm swinging back at her. It connects with her ribs and sends her flying backwards with the sword escaping her grip and sliding out of her reach. Laying on broken glass, it takes her a moment to come to. She’s about to sit up when she hears the loud marching of metal legs that come ever closer. Stopping as they stand over her body.

Eyes go wide as the four sharp blades rise above her head. She hesitates, not even sure that it will be fast enough to escape from their fate. And when the limbs swing down and she braces herself for the inevitable impact, the only thing that greets her is the loud ringing of metal upon metal. Opening her eyes she sees the long sword stopping the blades from cutting her down, held by the very man she thought had either been long gone or worse. Monkey Fist growls as he pushes the mechanic arms upward, slashing the sword at the chest and backing the sentinel away from her. It gives her the chance to get back on her feet, turning in time to prepare for the other soldier closing in on them.

Her back finds his own, a strange comfort in that moment.

_“Playback indicates an older male, armed.”_

_“Unauthorized presence.”_

The sentinels speak and seek to trap them, which gives the two just enough time to figure out the next plan.

“He got away. We _need_ to get out of here.” Kim says over her shoulder, reaching to grab for her grapnel– ready to make whatever move necessary.

“I know. _Go_. I’ll hold them off.”

That amazes her. Having her expectations set so low, she supposes just about anything would at this point. But what Monkey Fist offers is so far out of his character, she finds herself at a loft of words before finally pulling it together.

“Leaving people behind isn’t really my thing, Monkey Fist.” Kim argues over her shoulder, knowing that their moment in time is holding on by a thread as the machines are nearly close enough.

“Now is not really the time to worry about _self image_. **_Go_**. I’ll be right behind you.” Kim isn’t convinced. Enemy or not, she’s leaving him to two deathly machines who’ve currently proven themselves to be unstoppable. She _wants_ to have faith in him, and believe that what he says is true…but trust is notwithstanding. Even in a situation such as this.

Alas, she does break away from him. Aiming her grapnel towards the balcony as she runs and letting it pull her up. Quickly her eyes scan the room, seeing the destruction made by both warriors. No file is in site, and she even goes so far as to sift through the mess to make sure of that. It appears the stranger had won.

Again.

There was no time to steep in her defeat, knowing that machine was well on its way to find her if Monkey Fist had not gotten its attention first. It’s hard to feel at all pleased when realizing it’s the latter, seeing Kim had back down those steps and towards the gardens at the back of the house.

She sprints hard and fast, sliding to a sudden halt when another sentinel suddenly appears in front of her. The one from the garden who had no doubt awakened from the alarm still ringing through the compound. She ducks in time as one of the blades comes right for her neck, not bothering to stop and entertain it. Her target is the elevator, heading and whipping around to slam her hand onto the large button that will safely get her down. Quickly closing the doors just in time before the machine can get to her, but a hard strike against the metal box sends her into the the side of it, groaning ad she holds her side and stares up to see the head of the machine suddenly falling on top of the elevator and bouncing off of it.

She’s not sure what to expect in that moment, but when she sees Monkey Fist leaping from the cliff and landing atop the elevator she’s relieved. They both exchange a look through the grated ceiling. And by the time the lift makes it to the bottom, Kim is done catching her breath and walking up to the man who tosses the sword down with a loud clanging sound.

“Are you okay?” It astounds her that they are both in one piece, thinking more than once that they were never going to get out of there untouched.

“Never better.” The words are forced out through grit teeth, a hand holding his ribs even as he retains his full height. He’s clearly fighting through whatever pain he’s in. She reaches for that hand, peeling it away to see the slice that had made it through his clothing. The stench of blood greets her quickly. “It’s not bad.” The man assures her, pulling away and walking towards the shores. “Come. You can contact your friends now.”

“What happened up there?” She asks immediately, following him and allowing her curiosity to safely settle back inside her head as the survival mode slowly cools down.

“You _know_ what happened.” His tone is sour in his response, heard loud and clear as he frees himself from the head wrap. She knows well enough that the man won’t openly admit to defeat, but that leaves her question still unanswered and after what they had just been through? It’s unacceptable.

“No, I _don’t_. All I know is that you, like myself, had a chance to stop this guy. I think I deserve to know whether or not the attempt was there– or if you took advantage of working without supervision.”

Monkey Fist stops for a moment, inhaling sharply before turning and walking right up to her. She expects something explosive, considering the anger evident in blue irises. But he merely stands over her, observing her before releasing the restraint of initially aggressive words.

“You’re sounding a little _ungrateful_ , Kimberly. You’ve had ample time to question my integrity.”

Kim meets that hard gaze, and as much as she hates to admit it…he isn’t wrong. He had given her valuable information, and stuck his neck out for her more than once while they were up there. She supposes it’s unfair to expect the worse from the man just after he had proved himself even if for that short amount of time.

“And _you_ are an opportunist, Monkey Fist. I’m grateful for your help, really, I _am_. I just–.” She stops herself then, a hand coming to her forehead as she becomes uncomfortably aware of just how stressed this has all made her.

Kim hears the smile then before she sees it.

“How curious. I’m not sure I’ve seen you so… _wound up_ before.”

Hating the joy laced in his words, Kim looks back up to him wanting to flash him the annoyance currently coiled in her chest. But the man isn’t wrong, and it leaves her silent. Defeated.

“I admire that. Your refusal to **_lose_**. That’s what it is, isn’t it? The chase beginning to run you down. Defeat no longer your distant _acquaintance_. And doubt…burrowing **_far_** deeper than you’ve ever allowed anyone else.”

The words are haunting. More so coming from him– a man who is speaking from experience, it seems. He retains his smirk, his hand reaching beneath the fold of his gi and retrieving a small folded stack of papers. Green eyes light up at the sight, realizing quickly just what they are: the manifest. The stranger may have gotten away…but he didn’t _win_.

“He… didn’t take them…” Kim breathes out while her hand absentmindedly reaches up to collect his find, but Monkey Fist moves it slightly out of her reach. It brings her back to reality in that moment, her brows furrowing slightly as she stares up at the man. Of course, it was never going to be that simple.

“ _This_ belongs to _me_.” She can see how delighted he is to say that. To keep hostage the very prize won from their opponent.

“ _That_ belongs to the owner of the home we just _destroyed_.” She corrects him, folding her arms and realizing quickly just where this was headed.

“As far as anyone knows, the _thief_ took it. Only **_we_** know the truth.” Monkey Fist tucks it away then, “Do not fret, Miss Possible. It’s in good hands. _I’ll_ contact _you_ once I’ve fully examined it. As for now,” He takes a step back and bows his head, “I bid you farewell.”

The grin he flashes her both frustrates and flusters her. Annoyed at the man, the criminal still at large, and more than anything: herself. Kim watches the man turn and walk away, leaving her less than thrilled about what is to come. For now, she needed the team to be informed and prepared to explain the state of the house Frederick Kaiser was soon to walk into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any Dishonored fans out there– yes, the sentinels are 100% based off of the Clockwork Soldiers from the second game. For those unfamiliar, it's worth looking them up just to get an idea of what Kim and Monty were up against!


	3. A Deal

“Err– Miss Possible? You’re…early.” A familiar face opens the large door: Bates. Looking equally confused and worried at the sight of her. Not usually a good sign but she believes it to be his normal disposition. Kim smiles softly at him, even if she has her own reservations upon seeing the man.

“Had to be if I wanted to beat the storm coming in. I hope that’s alright?” It’s not a complete _lie_ ,but more so a measure taken to stay one step ahead of the man who’s still not won much trust with her. His insistence to keep the rest of her team at length forces them to operate on _his_ turf. And if that was going to be the case, then she would be as careful as possible.

Global Justice, Ron, and Wade all continued to express their concerns, but what Monkey Fist had managed to do on their mission a week ago proved their decision was in their best interest. None of them know of his…extraction…of the manifest– they’re all under the impression that the thief had gotten to it first. Their focus had shared that and the fact they had dodged some serious charges from the damages done to Kaiser’s home. The man far more disappointed with the destruction of his sentinel robots than anything else. But he’s pleased with their efforts to help protect his home and belongings and decides to look past it.

That sort of response doesn’t sit well with Kim, and she has half a mind to bring it up to Monkey Fist but… all in due time.

“Quite alright. Please, do come in.” Bates moves aside and gestures for her to step into the warm castle– a pleasant greeting from the harsh cold outside of it. He takes her coat as Kim surveys the long hall with the man in question nowhere in sight.

“The Lord is still sleeping. Care for some tea while you wait?”

“Sleeping? At six in the evening?” Kim is shocked to hear that, her brow raising at the man who gives her a crooked smile.

“Long night. He didn’t come home until late this morning.”

“Huh. So Monkey Fist has the same sleep schedule as a teenager? Good to know.” They both share an amused look before Kim shakes her head. “No tea, thanks. But…would you mind showing me the place? That is…if _he_ wouldn’t mind.”

Even while early, she waits on his time. But she supposes there’s not much harm to be done if he’s only sleeping. And why not explore the castle in the meantime? Surely there is history that could be valuable to her– especially regarding the very man who aids her on this mission. After all, when all is said and done…he ** _is_** a wanted criminal.

“Oh I think he’d very much encourage it.”

 _Oh,_ **_would_ ** _he?_

Kim is successful in keeping the sarcastic comment from escaping her, even if the look on her face surely says it all.

“Please, allow me.” He gestures his hand forward politely before leading her down the long hallway. “His collection _is_ remarkable. No doubt he could tell you a story of each and every piece stored within castle walls.”

“I’m _sure_.” Kim drawls. “If he’s so intent on sharing, you’d think he’d do the right thing and donate them to proper exhibits.”

“Ah..yes…well, Lord Fist is a sharer of knowledge. Not of… _things_.” Bates explains sheepishly, and Kim couldn’t agree more with the statement. It is _exactly_ who Monkey Fist is.

They walk into a part of the castle she’s never seen, hallways beginning to open up into large rooms. She takes note of the atrium that they pass. A beautiful and large opening where the garden and pond within it are frozen over from the weather. Bates is leading her to the back of the castle and towards the ‘magnificent’ library in which he claims is a favorite of most guests. Whatever _guests_ Monkey Fist could ever be hosting. She gets the feeling there aren’t many. But before they can make it to the destination, she spots a room that catches her attention immediately.

“What about this one?” Kim points to the large open doors that lead into a room decorated in weaponry and armor. She hates giving him the credit, even internally, but his collection is impressive. The displays of different metals and weapons and flags are simply put: _amazing_. She’s drawn in by the sheer glow of polished displays that are expertly positioned within the room.

“The armory? By all means…just be careful not to touch any of the weapons. The blades _are_ sharpened.” Kim nods and leads them into the room, beginning to observe it quietly before looking over at her company.

“How long have you known him, anyway?”

“Oh it seems like ages now. I met the young master when he was only a boy. Under less than…ideal circumstances, of course.” Bates follows at a distance while she studies every piece in the room, noting that there is far more in other rooms connecting to it. She’ll make her way around, and take in what she can. _While_ she can.

Bates’ answer does see her hum softly.

“The death of his father. Right?” She had read about it long ago after first meeting him. Orphaned at a young age, but protected by title and assets alone. It was nothing she ever looked further into, mostly because there wasn’t much to do so. That information was scarce if not nonexistent.

“A tale better told from himself, Miss Possible.” It’s his subtle way of telling her not to push as she’s certain Monkey Fist isn’t keen on giving out such sensitive details. At least, not from that of a third party.

“So you’ve stayed with him this whole time. From Lord Fiske to Monkey Fist.” She realizes it might sound like an accusation, and she’s relieved when the man doesn’t take it that way.

“If I may, Miss Possible, there was only _ever_ Monkey Fist. Outside of the books and the frame of a camera, Monty was a very different man. His… _dedication_ to his work came to no real surprise for me.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Kim mutters, her fingers gently tracing the ridges of a shield as she speaks.

“I think I will go check on the Lord as to not keep you waiting. Please, help yourself– I only request you remain in the armory.” Bates bows his head before stepping away.

“Sure, it’s more than enough to keep me busy.” And it is. She almost hopes Monkey Fist takes his time, giving her the chance to explore his collection alone. While she’s not learned too much about him or what he houses, she can’t deny feeling somewhat lucky enough to observe a collection many haven’t. Even if she suspects _some_ of it to be stolen.

Bates’ comment does resinate within her still. ‘ _There was only ever Monkey Fist’._ A hard pill to swallow considering the amount of media content that exists of him in the world. Interviews, documentaries, and even books– just to name a _few_. She can remember the short video she had watched of him years ago, one of his most popular ones. A monkey comfortably relaxing on his shoulder and hanging on to his head while he explains the program he helped bring to life at a rescue center in South America. He was younger, wearing a charming smile as he spoke.

A smile that vanished in the last seconds of the video. As if to turn off the act he had put on for it. The very memory has her thinking she needs to see it again. To really observe it knowing what she knows now.

He tricked _everyone_.

Kim lets out a breath and lets go of the thought for now. Her focus going back to the beautiful artifacts, one in particular that catches her eye. A large sword sitting in the near center of the room on a stand not unlike the one at Kaiser’s mansion. While the look of this one isn’t as extravagant, it _is_ large. Looking fit for a knight. And despite the warning given to her, careful fingers reach out to feel the flat of the cold blade…tempted to near the edge and see just how true those words were.

“Enjoyed that blade, did you?”

Kim whips around at the voice, staring at the man who throws back what seems to be the last of his cup of tea. He’s dressed in his usual black garb with only his belt missing, an unusually lax look for him. She seethes at the thought that he’d been standing there watching her without her knowledge. Feeling as if she’d been caught red headed– something she has no doubt was the man’s intention.

Monkey Fist steps further into the room after setting the empty cup down on a small table near the door, his gaze shifting to the long sword now at Kim’s back.

“You’ll find this one isn’t as easy to handle as that _fake_. Still, it is a mighty thing.” She lets him approach, stepping to the side as his own fingers drift over the handle. He’s close enough that she can see his hair damp and smell his skin wafting with the fresh scent of peppermint and eucalyptus. He’d just showered, it would seem. “The claymore only serves one purpose. Well, aside from being an accessory that keeps any sane person far out of reach of its handler. One simply doesn’t draw this sort of steel without the intention of striking down whoever opposes them. The odds of surviving a single blow from this are… _not_ promising.”

Just as Bates had mentioned: knowledge openly and willingly shared. His presence, while daunting and nerve-racking, still brings a confidence that is somewhat alluring. He speaks, and she listens. The man still very much an expert in such fields, and how could she ever deny the opportunity to learn? Well, she will need to at least _try_ as pressing matters do exist.

“Lets hope your interest stays within the realm of _monkeys_ , then.” Kim half smirks at that, knowing deep down she means those words seriously. Monkey Fist armed is _not_ what she ever wants to be on the other end of.

He chuckles at that, his hand falling from the blade as he turns to face her.

“Oh, I’d not come for you with _this_.” He assures her, as if it’s meant to ease any worries. “Like you, I prefer the light and reliable blade. Used as an extension, and dangerous in close combat. The chokuto sword falls within that category…a personal favorite of mine.” He pauses then, his eyes combing over her briefly before his smile widens. “Would you like to see it?”

She’d be lying if she told him she wasn’t interested. His knowledge, often overshadowed by his evil nature, is just as impressive as she’d remembered. He’s extending the offer to learn something in that moment, something she’s not sure she can learn anywhere else. But she exercises self-control, and instead turns to walk away from the man with folded arms.

“Another time. You took a look through that manifest?” Her eyes focus on the walls of the room, quietly fearful of the silence between them then. Kim wonders if he’s not happy about her answer, until finally his breath is heard.

“Mm… all business and no pleasure, Kimberly?” That confirms her suspicion. Monkey Fist doesn’t like being told ‘no’, no matter what way it’s wrapped. She makes a face at that, turning to look over her shoulder at him.

“I’m here because you agreed to help. And as far as I understand it, I’m still playing by _your_ rules. Maybe you should consider doing the same.” She’s _there_ , after all. On his grounds. No ear piece and no help. It’s just them…the way _he_ wanted it.

“Indeed. Well, you want information… and so do **_I_**. So first, who is he?” She supposes the blame is on her for expecting he would ever give up the information so quickly. The tactic to then turn the attention on her doesn’t fail. Especially when, to her own shame, she has nothing to offer him.

“We still don’t know.” Kim admits softly, clenching her jaw at the delight then beaming from his features.

“Heh. You really **_are_** desperate. Explain to me again– what service does this task force provide you? Besides the very fact that they are slowing you _down._ ”

“In ** _your_** opinion. And _they_ brought _me_ on for this case– it wasn’t the other way around.”

“Come, Kimberly.” Monkey Fist turns abruptly, heading into the next room of the large armory. She follows reluctantly, her eyes wandering over his collection while keeping her eye on him all the while. “It took you a _week_ to come up with _nothing_. It took _me_ less than a day to fully analyze the manifest. Your thief is already outrunning you lot– yet here you are giving him the head start.”

A lecture. She’s both tempted to roll her eyes as well as defend herself. Some small part of her believing that she’s disappointed him, and another smaller part of her hating that she had.

“You make it sound so _simple_. We can only work with what we have and right now, it’s not a lot.”

“You have more than you realize.” Finally he stops in front of a large display– that of samurai armor and weapons. It’s admittedly impressive to look at, of all the different styles and colors. She’s too distracted with one of them to respond to his comment, walking up to the stand and staring up into a black mask with golden teeth bared. Kim looks down then to the set of swords in front of her.

“May I?” She looks to him then, seeing the pleased look upon his features as he watches her. Successfully distracted.

“You may.”

She picks up the shorter sword, carefully pulling it from its sheath. The blade glistens against the light, and appears far sharper than she’d inspect herself.

“Two halves of a whole. The katana and what you hold now: the wakizashi. How does it feel?”

“Light.” She answers softly, inspecting the handle and the traditional craft upon it. “Like…you wouldn’t really need to think to use it.”

“An interesting observation, Kimberly. A challenge samurai faced above all else: temptation. self-control, conflict of honor. How easy it wold be to maneuver such a weapon even without proper training. Imagine that blade in the hands of someone who _does_. Someone _aware_ of the power they hold. One might consider it a burden.” She’s vaguely worried at the passion behind those words, but doesn’t allow herself to dwell on them.

“Samurai or not, a weapon like this shouldn’t be in the hands of those who lack _restraint_.” She covers the blade then, setting it back down on the stand. The room falls silent and she hardly notices as her gaze is fixated upon the weapon. Imagining the many lives taken from it.

“You should keep it.”

Kim is surprised by that sudden suggestion, turning to look upon him then. It’s a game. A test. Of what, she’s not too sure. Perhaps to see if she deems herself worthy of that sort of restraint. She knows she is– but why must she prove it?

“Keep it? _Why?_ ” She’ll play along for now. Interested in where he’s wanting to lead the idea, but cautious all the same.

Perhaps not cautious enough.

Monkey Fist’s lips twitch into a sinister smirk at the question, seeing him step dangerously into her space. Hands rise up to then carefully wrap around her throat. Seizing her breath while they clasp around her gently but firm in their control. She lets out a sound of surprise that betrays her, staring up into eyes that seek to find whatever fear lingers inside of her. And it **_is_** there, very much raging beneath the surface.

Hands instinctively move to hold his wrists, attempting to find some form of control. To be ready to protect herself even if it might be too late. If he wanted to hurt her, he’d have done so…wouldn’t he? It’s that lone thought that she clutches to, giving him the benefit of the doubt in that moment.

“Because the _next_ time someone’s got their hands around your throat, stealing away your _space_ and _breath_ …you need not worry who will be there to save you.” It occurs to her that he’s talking about the thief who had her trapped to that balcony and crushed his fingers so hard against her windpipe that marks formed upon her the very next day.

“Grab it.”

An order. One Kim doesn’t refuse as she carefully reaches back out for the blade. A firm tug sees the steel loose, and in that moment she feels safe. Trapped in the hands of the dangerous Monkey Fist, but with steel that they both know can cut right through him. It’s that confidence which scares her, seeing her hand tremble as the tip of the blade sits upon his ribs.

“ _One_ strike. That’s all it takes.” The look on his face worries her, as if she may just need to use that tactic right then and there. But she remains calm, feeling his grip begin to ease and seeing a toothy grin stretching his lips. “That is, of course, unless it’s the fun sort of choking, hm? Wouldn’t want to spoil **_that_** with twelve inches of steel.”

An insinuation that catches her off-guard and tints her cheeks. Kim threads her brows at that, attempting to remove herself from his grip. “I don’t want it.”

“Which part?” Monkey Fist smirks, clearly thrilled by her reaction.

She slams the flat of the blade to his chest then, seeing his hands move to catch it before it falls point first down towards his feet. Finally removing herself from him, and feeling lightheaded all the while. Finally she steadies herself and folds her arms while standing at a safe distance. Close to getting lost in the disbelief of what had just occurred, she regains her composure and works to course-correct.

“No more playing around. We have work to do.” There’s no misconstruing the look of annoyance on his face as he closes the blade and places it back into proper position.

“ _You_ have work to do, remember? I’ve got your list. I can tell you where your friend will be this evening. But that doesn’t matter if you’ve got no plan. Nothing to help you put all this to an end. We will show up, and whether he is successful in his robbery or not...he _will_ get away.”

“Not much of an optimist as much as an _opportunist_ , are you?” Kim sets her jaw, knowing that Monkey Fist is far from wrong, but it leaves her feeling helpless. “You realize there’s only so much I can do, right?”

“That sounds like an excuse. _Very_ unusual for _you._ ”

She hates the way he says that. As if he _knows_ her. As if he’s placed her so high up on this pedestal and she’s no longer meeting such standards.

“And _you’re_ the expert on who I am and how I operate?”

“Expertise isn’t needed to see that your abilities are being _hindered_. This organization... your ‘team’, is no different than that claymore. Dangerous and strong... but useless in _your_ hands. It’s slowing you down.”

A ballsy statement, but she would be a fool to expect any less from him. Though as much as she would like to deny his judgement, she can’t help but to see some truth from it. Her works is best done alone with the help of Wade and sometimes Ron. No other parties to hold her back are skew her thought process. It’s something she’d been secretly aware of. Something she figured would pass once the case was finished. But now as it continues to drag along… the idea that she’s being held back isn’t so unthinkable.

As if she’d admit that to _him_. He’d eat it up and savor every bite.

Monkey Fist has a point, and Kim will allow him to make it. It’s the only way to move forward. The only option left.

“And _your_ way would be what exactly?”

Oh, what a dangerous question that is. Yet again handing him over the control, granting him the power, bending the knee to the man who wants all of that and _more_. She needs to be careful. To give an inch could be forfeiting miles here.

“Just you. Just me.” The man answers as if it’s obvious, coming closer to her again with hands behind his back–in no way a promise that they will stay there. “Two beings that do not tolerate failure.”

A comparison she could shudder at because it is _true_. And oh how she **_hates_** it.

“We’re here right now.” Kim points out, narrowing her eyes up at the arrogant monkey master. “You. Me. So why don’t you tell me _exactly_ what you mean. What do you think needs to be done to finish this?”

Monkey Fist takes one more step closer and reaches his hand into her pocket. Alarmed once again at the sudden breach of boundaries, she remains frozen and watches him pull out the device stored there.

“Do your work. Your _real_ work. Without the tumor that is your ‘ _task force_ ’. I have everything you need…including this.” He points at his head, wearing a knowing smirk. Kim, momentarily ignoring the offensive suggestions, goes to take back the device. Unwilling to give him such power over her. But his hand snatches her wrist before she’s able to grab it from him, seeing her eyes ignite with annoyance and frustration.

“You’re getting _way_ too comfortable grabbing me however you like.” A not so subtle warning is shot his way, not that he’s responsive to it as much as the discomfort she’s attempting to hide. His grin grows wide, his fingers curling tighter. She has no doubt that they are both thinking the same thing: that she wishes she were still near that blade.

“You make it too _easy_.” Monkey Fist pulls her closer, leaning in to stare hard at emerald eyes. Kim is ready to fight. Prepared for whatever he decides to do next while keeping her wrist and communicator imprisoned. “Heh. You _really_ don’t trust me.”

“I never _will._ ”

“Then you’ll never _win_.”

He’s as infuriating as ever. She almost prefers him in a state of obsession over becoming a monkey king. It’s far less intrusive. Far less… _personal_.

Kim presses her lips then, glaring up at the man who is insistent on cornering her. On putting her in a position that could see her in danger. That could also jeopardize her relationship with the rest of her team, including Global Justice. The man gives her no choice, and so she tears her hand free from his grip then, letting him hold hostage the device. For now.

“Have you got something better than _that_ in this place?” Without wade, and without her device, there’s not much she’s able to do. She figures he knows that, and is somewhat relieved at his response.

“ _Much_ better.” Monkey Fist smiles, stepping out of the way and waving his hand for her to walk with him.

It amazes her how quickly they shift their gears. How…unpredictably predictable he can be. Never knowing what rabbit hole he intends to take her down, but knowing how to climb her way out of one if necessary.

Kim follows, surprised when she’s lead into a room that looks far different than the others. A touch more modern, what with a wall of large screens and a line of servers– even the furniture not quite fitting the aesthetic of the historical castle. The room is dark, lit only by the screens which display the outside of his castle as well as the property itself. At the center of the room is a long sofa, where a table sits housing a couple of tablets and a laptop as well. She’s tempted to comment on the fact that he’s ticked off another box on the ‘supervillain’ checklist, but doesn’t think she’s in a position to do so safely.

A quick glance at the interface on the screens and she takes note that the software he’s using isn’t one she can recognize. It both concerns and intrigues her, not quite sure just how much power and access this man has that could be better off in the right hands.

“Help yourself.” She watches him take a seat, kicking his feet up on the table while also grabbing at one of the tablets. He makes a few gestures on the screen and suddenly the monitors in front of them display all collected information on the stolen artifacts, the thief, as well as the next potential hits.

He _has_ done his work.

Kim finds herself grateful for the space he gives her. The room to think even while she is silent for a long time. She sifts through the files, taking note of smaller things that may have been overlooked in her briefings with the team. She doesn’t speak for a while, not until she’s absorbed all that is offered. Once she does, she inhales deeply and gets to work. Checking through the web to see if any of the stolen pieces were listed for sale or had been previously purchased. Exploring the idea that the thief may be stealing for a profit.

A dead end.

“Hard to sell. Anyone with half a mind wouldn’t buy something missing that’s been plastered all over the news.” Monkey Fist comments, though not as harshly as she supposes he could have.A mere comment that reinforces her decision to move on to another angle.

Next is the mask. Pulling up the blurred images captured of his form, as well as the mask Monkey Fist was able to identify. This time he doesn’t wait for her to over analyze it before speaking his mind.

“It doesn’t mean anything. It’s meant purely to protect their identity and perhaps to throw an investigation off. A common tactic.”

“I agree.” She breathes out softly, “I think identifying him might also be a waste of time. A name isn’t going to get us closer to capturing him.”

Kim pauses then, resting her chin in her hand and quietly thinking to herself. She’s not certain how much time passes in that room as the two of them research and discuss all possible paths and solutions. It’s almost…nice. _Freeing_. The way they are able to communicate over the information without conflicting ideas or fear of restrictions. It’s when Monkey Fist displays all stolen artifacts and swipes through them that Kim sticks her hand out towards him.

“Wait.”

He obeys, pausing his search and allowing her to do exactly what she does best. Turning, she collects the tablet from his hold and skims over each item. Finally…it clicks.

“They’re a _collector_. None of these items make sense together. They serve no _purpose_. And if they did, why not _use_ them? The house we went to... you said there were false items. Some of which _weren’t_. So why steal a manifest instead of those artifacts? If he is a collector, why not take what he can get? The items are…specific.” Kim looks to him then, seeing him pleased with such information. He follows her lead easily, seeing exactly where she’s going with it.

“They’re being _hired_. It’s not _for_ them.... it’s for someone else.”

Kim nods, “Mmm… a collector who doesn’t have the funds- but knows well enough what is real and what isn’t? Or... a collector who simply isn’t willing to wager with the owners.”

He pulls up the victims list on another screen, scrolling through it and humming softly, “Owners who are very much in the same circle. It’s an invasive experience…having something stolen from you. Empowering for the thief who gets away with it. Could be a bored patrician who’s trying to get one over on their ‘friends’.”

“You used to be in that circle, too. Is that a viable option?”

“I wouldn’t put it past them.” Monkey Fist folds his arms, looking back to the screens while Kimconsiders those ideas.

“It _would_ be someone close to them. Like you. You _knew_ about the manifest- but surely you weren’t the only one.”

“It might be worth looking at previous visits to all locations. Seeing just who has relations with who. You’ll find that there is an ever-growing web of connections between Europe’s deity. ” Monkey Fist drawls, subtly expressing his own thoughts on the men and women who share his social class.

“You still…talk to any of them?”

“Not quite. Befriending criminals isn’t the current trend in high society. Next season, perhaps.” Kim struggles to hide her amusement at that, pressing away the smirk on her lips and refocusing on the topic at hand.

“We don’t have until next season.” Kim folds her arms, crossing her legs and wagging her elevated foot mindlessly. “One thing is certain: we have a better chance of finding the collector rather than the thief. A thief who’s come out of _nowhere_. No one is just… _that_ invincible on their first try.”

“Only if there is good reason to be. Perhaps enough money that doesn’t allow room for mistakes.”

“If that was the case...with that sort of skill, why not just rob a bank?”

Monkey Fist grins at that, brows raising as if to challenge the assumption.

“Make enemies of the government, or of spineless aristocrats? The choice there is unanimous, I think.”

Kim sighs and nods her head, feeling surprisingly…good about everything reviewed. For the first time in months, she feels that she’s got a handle on what’s happening. That there is some sort of progress. And even if what they discussed leads them nowhere, she knows that her mind is in the right groove to take this on. There’s still hope.

“Let’s investigate the victims. Try to find whoever it is pulling the thief’s strings.” Kim looks back over to him, searching for some sort of validation from the man who has been at the very least…encouraging. “What do you think?”

He scoffs and reaches over to collect her communicator, gently tossing it back over to where she sits on the sofa. “I think we have some work to do, Kimberly.”

She smiles and there is no hiding it from him. She won’t easily forget what he’s done that evening, never mind in her time knowing him, but…he’s been helpful. More than she ever would have suspected. If he can help her finally end this…it will have all been worth it.

“I’ll let the team know so we can move forward.” Kim goes to turn on the device, only to pause when his voice is quick to stop her.

“I’d advise _against_ that.”

She sighs, pressing out a dramatic breath. “That doesn’t surprise me. _Why_ , Monkey Fist? Why should I throw away my trust in the people who have proved worthy to have it?”

“You risk the chance of altering the plan. Of _doubting_ yourself. You just made more progress than _any_ of them in a few hours alone. And remember... no matter how much you trust them– they _are_ a government agency. Bound to have... less than _noble_ members. Members who may be inclined to work in favor of your enemies.”

Valid points. Ones that could only come from a criminal like himself. He wants her to cut them out completely to see this through. She doesn’t doubt that it would prove useful, but at the end of the day…it’s a dangerous decision to make.

“You’re not wrong…but denying their trust means accepting _yours_.”

And to trust Monkey Fist is to expect betrayal. One can’t come without the other. He will let her down, of that she knows she needs to accept. But it isn’t in her heart to doubt anyone of the small possibility that maybe…just maybe…it might be different. He might keep his word. He might surprise her in that his intentions were clear and pure. She knows she will desperately hold onto that hope even when she shouldn’t. Which leaves her on that sofa chewing her lip.

Kim knows what needs to be done.

“Indeed it does. But it’s only _temporary_ , my dear.” He turns on the sofa and reaches his hand out then, blue eyes watching her inspecting it. “By the end of this, you’ll _have_ your thief, you _will_ be safe, and I’ll be out of your hair.” He waits patiently, smiling before adding his last assurance in, “I promise you, I won’t allow _any_ harm to come to your way.”

Kim stares at that hand and considers the bold promises. It’s not long before she accepts it, meeting his hand with her own and letting it squeeze around her gently. Warm and promising. A deal made with the devil, but allowing herself to acknowledge that would would only set her back. She pulls her hand away then, leaning back into the seat and staring at the screen. Tongue in cheek, she gives a nod and exhales faintly.

“I have a plan.”


	4. Beautiful

The next couple of days unfold ungracefully. The sudden and drastic changes having been made throws wind in the sails but diverts their path completely. A plan is pieced together in that castle with the monkey master– one that sees her traveling home briefly only to fly back to Paris less than a day later. But before she does…before those plans set into motion, Kim needs to do what she reluctantly agreed to.

She made a commitment: to remove herself from the team she was asked to assist. Of course, there’s no withholding _why_. Kim explains very clearly that Monkey Fist’s help only seems to strengthen when they work…alone. Needless to say, none of them take it well. More so Ron and Wade who have worked with her for years and proved to be the best assets and well… _people_ in her life. They also appear to be the most understanding once she opens up in private, letting them in on the plan enough to satiate them and protect her promise to the man. It’s a fine line she walks, but she manages to keep both parties happy…for now.

Global Justice on the other hand…aren’t pleased with her decision to temporarily divert from their team. To trust in a _criminal_ …and not just **_any_**. Monkey Fist. A dangerous man who proves as such every time she is with him. They work to both convince her otherwise, and when she doesn’t budge, tries to get information out of her regarding the next steps. She refuses to divulge in either, keeping the information close to the chest…just as the man had advised.

Kim hopes she’s right to trust him.

Only Wade knows of her location. She made him promise not to do or communicate anything to anyone else while she made her way back to France. France, where Violet Dufranc will be hosting a fundraiser in her massive estate– all invitees of which make up the list of victims…as well as the very names listed upon that manifest. The thief will no doubt find it easy in collecting what he can for that night considering any potential victims will all be in one place. It’s something Monkey Fist and her bank on. There is no stopping the thief, and their time would only be wasted in attempting to do so again. So, with help from the exiled aristocrat himself…Kim lands herself on the guest list.

Which brings her here: Black Cat Boutique.

In the Marais, a part of Paris where she’s certain she doesn’t belong. Monkey Fist had given her the address and a time to meet someone who would help her prepare for that night. An oddly nice thing for him to do, and rather surprising considering his social place within the world as it stands. To hear that he still has…connects, both impresses and concerns her. What person of good intent would ever assist a fugitive? Well, she supposes she doesn’t really want to know. With a breath she walks up to the store, glimpsing at the displays of elegant dresses in the windows before stepping inside.

Breathing in the place feels to be its own expense, and Kim worries just what exactly the man has set up for her. He was brief in his explanation, something that didn’t worry her at the time considering the confidence she had for their plan. The plan being to investigate the guests and draw the potential suspect out. Someone is certain to draw attention to themselves when seeing the very girl who had been on their tail for the past couple of months.

If there’s anything she’s good at, it’s applying pressure. She’ll find what she needs to, there is no doubt of that.

There are voices heard in the back of the store, Kim stepping forward cautiously and feeling more and more out of place with each passing moment. There is some relief offered when a man is seen peering at the front of the store, his features lighting up at the sight of her.

“Save that thought, my friend– I think our guest has arrived.” A thick accent is uttered as the man, finely dressed, makes his way over to her with hands extended.

“Ah, but _Monty_ …you did not mention what an exquisite creature your Miss Possible was.” Kim’s eyes widen a bit when when two hands gently take her face, observed by the tall and lanky man who looks star struck. She can hardly break down the words spoken just now, blushing at the attention suddenly given to her.

“Uh…hi?” Kim wants to back away with her sheepish grin, but the man is far too interested in studying her, his hands moving then to feel her hair and touch her skin.

“It must have slipped my mind.” A familiar voice sounds then, seeing her look past the man and towards Monkey Fist who watches with delight nearby. She’s surprised to see him in clothes. _Actual_ clothes. And simply to see him there in general. Kim doesn’t like feeling caught off guard, and it worries her what she’s walking into.

And…wait– what exactly **_had_** Monkey Fist told this man who implies their knowing of one another is any less than off by a landslide?

“Oh, _sure_ it did. You are just a selfish man.” He waves his hand back at him before finally stepping away and circling her. “My love, it will be an _honor_ to dress you. I hear you are attending Dufranc’s this evening, yes? You will be the center of attention at the party.” A promise that slightly worries her. The man, who Kim deducts as the stylist, gently picks up her hand to kiss the top of it. The gesture sees Monkey Fist step in then, peeling the stylist’s hand off of her with a smirk. She’s almost grateful to him for that, not that the gentleman poses a threat, but it is a violent reminder that the monkey master _is_ present. A move still unwarranted.

“Kimberly, this is Pierre, my stylist. The very _best_ in France.” She’s tempted to point out just how ridiculous that statement sounds to her. Kim doesn’t quickly forget that before his… change in professions…his life was settled high above the clouds.

“ ** _Was_** your stylist. Until you decided to commit to your new… _lifestyle._ ” Judgement is heavy in his tone, and Kim has to hide her smirk. “Come, my love.”

Pierre waves his hand and leads the two of them out of the storefront and towards the back where they had been settled. Kim takes the short opportunity and looks to Monkey Fist then who walks at her side. “What’s your deal here? I brought a dress.”

And she had– before he had reached out to her and directed her to this very location without any helpful information.

“From a fast fashion shop in an American suburb? You’ll be eaten _alive_.” That almost stings, but…he does have a point. She imagines every attendee will be able to sniff out the expense of anything she wears.

“As if you wouldn’t want to _see_ that.”

“I’d rather see you humble every man and woman in there.” Kim finds herself a little speechless at the statement, but before she can think too much on it, he realigns their focus. “Your presence is important. We want to make our suspect _sweat_. You’ve been chasing the case for a while now, and there is no doubt that they are aware of your resilience. **_This_** will be your statement.”

“People do tend to slip up when they feel the pressure.” She agrees reluctantly, torn between hating how right he sounds and enjoying such helpful cooperation.

“ _Exactly_. And what better way to lure a man to water than with the beautiful siren?” Monkey Fist raises a gloved hand then, drifting knuckles over her cheek and pushing red locks from her face. The gesture not as violating as the words, she makes a face and looks over at him with a gentle warning in her eyes.

“Leave the compliments to _Pierre_.” Kim gently pulls his hand down from her, seeing the devilish grin spreading over his lips. “Still, this doesn’t explain why _you’re_ here.”

“Can’t I see what I’m paying for?”

“Look at that. It turns out _no_ amount of charm can hide your arrogance.” She folds her arms and rolls her eyes. Having _that_ held over her head is a move expected from the man but not at all _appreciated_. “No one’s asking you to pay for _anything_ , and if that’s the case-.”

“Stop overthinking it. You need a dress. You asked for _my_ help. I’m simply here to provide.” Blue eyes shift towards Pierre then. “And to make sure _he_ behaves.”

“Right. Like you’re the one I _don’t_ need to worry about.” A handsy stylist is nothing she can’t handle, grievance or not.

Monkey Fist merely chuckles at that, finally reaching the room at the very back of the store that is beautifully decorated. He returns to his seat where a half empty glass of champagne is waiting for him. He watches as Pierre gets her onto the small platform surrounded by large antique mirrors and lights expertly placed to compliment anyone.

“My love, I fear there may not be a dress in existence that matches your beauty.” Pierre muses with words dipped in sweet honey. The blush on her cheeks not from the comments as much as they are at the fact that they are said in front of a notorious enemy.

“Do you feed that line to everyone?” Kim attempts to dodge the heat, chancing a look over to the man who watches with interest, and of course... _amusement._

“If I do not make my clients feel as if they are on top of the world, then I simply do not do my job. Monty will tell you, hm?” _‘Monty.’_ It’s so hard to associate him with that name. Pierre holds his chin then, beginning to circle and survey her. “Mmm, come. I know exactly what I wish to see you in first.”

Kim’s hand is taken and she looks to Monkey Fist again who sits with drink in hand, watching the two of them carefully until they’re out of sight. She’s taken to a large changing room where she’s handed a dress she can feel is far too expensive for her to even touch. It’s white and short, with a lace collar and sleeves. She fears not seeing herself in it, but having _him_ of all people to be on display for. Walking out, she steps up again and looks to herself in the mirrors. It’s not something she’d ever think would compliment her, but Pierre is visibly impressed.

“Classy, and pure. Your hair sets flame to the canvas.” She can’t help but smile at him, but at the back of her head all she can do is associate such a pure white with a wedding. Nothing she’s at all ready to make any comparisons to. Turning with the help of his hand to face Monkey Fist, she feels herself freeze under his gaze. He leans forward and observes her quietly, leaving her fearful of what he’s thinking and what he might say. A ridiculous thought– for why should she care what he thinks?

“She’s not getting _married,_ Pierre. No. Nothing white.” She can’t believe she’s relieved to hear him say that, even if his comment heavily suggests that he will have the final say in what is chosen. An idea that doesn’t sit well with her at all.

“Agreed.” Kim drawls, not at all hating the way she looks or feels, but simply knowing that the style is drastically off for the event.

The rejection doesn’t dissuade Pierre at all, as he nods his head and reassures them both that the next choice will be even better. A couple more dresses are selected, one which doesn’t even make it out of the dressing room as Kim can hardly stand to look at herself within it. The gems upon it nearly blinding her and considering she still require’s Monkey Fist’s help, she won’t chance blinding him as well.

“You are being unusually _picky_ , Monty.” Pierre teases as he turns down the other dress, this time without giving much reason why. Kim does idly wonder just what vision he has that she’s not yet matching up to, and considering he won’t be in attendance– what does it matter if he approves or not?

“I’m allowed to be.” She wants to hit him for that. To make her own thoughts known, but she bites her tongue for now. After all, she’s not worn won yet that has completely stolen her heart. Not until she heads back into the room and is handed the next one.

Kim blushes just as the sight of it. Another shorter dress with a slit cut to her thigh. A deep v-neck cut at the torso, which shows may more than she had ever allowed before. She thinks it might look and feel ridiculous whilst putting it on.... but is surprised when she finds herself feeling amazing within it. Confident and _perfect_. So taken with it that she doesn’t have a second thought on displaying it for either men– merely intent on getting a better look herself within the large mirrors. The moment she steps out, Pierre happily exclaims.

“You are but a **_goddess_**.” Kim grins at that, watching her reflection and surprisingly feelings as if that statement might be true. Part of her feels guilty for loving it so much, but there’s no helping it. It’s beautiful and sexy and a dream dress to walk into _any_ event.

“Absolutely not.” And just like that, the thought is stolen from her. Surprised at the answer, she looks over at Monkey Fist who’s got a stern look in his eye. “We want an invitation to _look,_ not to ** _touch_**.”

“Uh, nothing _anyone_ wears is an invitation to touch.” Kim is quick on the defense to object against an outdated thought. Monty isn’t having it.

“Try explaining that to a room full of people who have never been told _‘no’_ in their entire lives.”

“I’ll gladly do so.” Arms fold over her chest as she turns to fully face him, ready to battle and to collect her reward for it.

The man growls, rising to his feet then and stepping up to her. “I said _no_.” She has every reason to fear him in that moment, but all she feels is _bullied_. Subject to whatever he says or wants. A dynamic she can’t allow. Kim can’t also ignore the subtle intention behind his words. The dress reveals far more than any other, and will undoubtedly draw all kinds of attention. Giving him the small benefit of the doubt, she leads her next words with that in mind.

“I can take care of myself– _you_ of all people should know that.”

Pierre steps in then, clasping his hands together as if to plead with his client. “Ah, she loves the dress, Monty– it was crafted for her beauty alone.” An attempt to help her change his mind, one Kim is grateful for.

But Monkey Fist only shoots a dark look at the stylist, “Find another one, Pierre.” A command that sees Pierre bow his head before going to the back, leaving Kim to fight the battle on her own. Blue eyes look back to her then, his voice low and dangerous. “Need I remind you that I won’t be in there with you?”

“Your intention is _almost_ sweet, but you’re just coming off _insulting_.” She points out to him, brows threading together with offense.

“Explain to me how you will get _anything_ done whilst being fawned over by the entirety of Paris.” He’s infuriating, throwing more fuel into the internal war of whether or not she should feel complimented or alarmed.

“I’ll _get_ the job done.”

“You will.” Monkey Fist agrees, leaning in close to make his final point, “ _In_ another dress.” He moves away then, sitting back into his seat and refilling his glass. Setting her jaw, she goes to Pierre and finds it a challenge not to explode right then and there. She’s got half a mind to leave completely, and to go with the very selection she had brought with her. Of course, she knows that won’t go over well, and so she sticks around and watches Pierre focus silently as he observes the different options.

Finally he pulls one and hums softly, turning to her with what looks to be hope in his eyes. “Give this a try, love. It’s not the one you want, but I believe it is close.”

Grateful for his kindness, she takes it and carefully puts it on. It’s far more elegant than the one previous, but not at all conservative at the backside where the whole of her back is on display. Gold chains rest against the bare skin there, attached to the subtle collar at the top. It’s long and black and sleek, with a modest cut sitting just over her knee.

It’s not as significant as the dress worn before, but it doesn’t make her feel any less important. It feels light and fitted _just_ for her. However, considering Monty’s recent reaction to the last one, she doesn’t get her hopes up that he will give the green light on this one. Still a ridiculous notion that she’d need his approval....but she supposes that he _is_ the expert with all of this. And as he so _graciously_ mentioned, it **_is_** coming from his own pocket– a fact she’s still not ready to accept. Kim follows Pierre out, taking the hand offered and stepping back onto the platform. She subtly notes his silence, certain he knows his client well enough to read when his comments aren’t wanted. And so she waits for that voice, avoiding looking upon him all while observing the dress herself.

“Can you trim it by tonight?” His voice is close, and startles Kim when suddenly he’s walking around her, his eyes studying her form.

“Of course, Monty.” Pierre responds humbly so.

Monkey Fist stops in front of her then, meeting her eyes and retaining the poker face he wears. “Do _you_ like it?”

“Does that even matter?” Kim scoffs, wanting to do anything in that moment to avoid his gaze. Every attempt proving unsuccessful.

“Yes.” She presses her lips at that answer, hating just how hot and cold he can be. So _careless_ with the way he flip flops constantly.

“Yeah. I do.” He smirks at her answer, nodding his head and glancing to Pierre.

“We’ll take it.”

“A wise decision, Lord Fiske.” Pierre grabs a nearby kit and crouches down to begin pinning the bottom of the dress in preparation for his minor alterations.

Monkey Fist continues to stand there, sliding his hands into his pockets and watching her with a growing smirk. “How do you feel?”

“Currently? _Annoyed._ ” She flashes him a feigned smile, almost shocked at such a ridiculous question. Kim doesn’t need to explain herself as he very clearly understands why.

“This dress suits you _just_ as well.”

“You are the **_last_** person who should ever decide that.” A villain. A master of monkeys. Telling **_her_** what she can and can’t wear?

“If you find comfort in believing that, then fine. But the reality is that you don’t know these people the way _I_ do. I know it would kill you to ever accept it, but I _am_ looking out for you, Kimberly.”

_Oh, please._

“Monkey Fist? Looking out for _me?_ Are you… feeling okay?” She lifts her hand to feel his forehead, but it doesn’t stay there long before his own grabs her wrist and pulls it down with a smirk.

Pierre sighs and stands back up, grinning at both of them while her wrist is still trapped within his grip.

“You two will be as they say– a _power_ couple. I have _just_ the suit for you to match.” The term he comes out with sees Kim snatching her hand away from the man, admittedly mortified. Is that what Pierre thinks? Is that what he was _told?_ Them…the two of them…?

“Uh…we’re not-.”

“I won’t be in attendance, unfortunately.” Monkey Fist interrupts her, as if… wanting to keep the impression that Pierre has.

“You are sending her to you the sharks alone, Monty?” Kim rolls her eyes- stepping off the platform and desperately seeking to get away from the two men who seem to lack faith in her independence.

“Not exactly.” He smirks and watches her saunter away, going to change out of the very piece she’d be wearing that night.

When Kim returns, she meets both of them back in the front of the store. They converse amongst themselves in French, leaving Kim out of the loop. She’s not sure she minds, of course, perhaps being better off not knowing at all. But her entrance does see Monty looking over his shoulder, stepping away from Pierre who seems to be busy filling something out at the desk.

“Waiting for a ‘thank you’?”

“It _would_ be nice to hear. Of course, an afternoon watching you play dress up is _just_ as satisfying.” That's all it takes for her to roll her eyes and to end the conversation right then and there.

“I’ll see you at eight.” Kim goes to move past him, eager to see this outing to its end.

“Ah ah ah....” his hand grabs her arm, gently guiding her back to stand in front of him. That same hand moves to grab her chin, Kim goes to knock it away but Monkey Fist brings his fingers right back to her. “No curls. And don’t go covering all of this up.” He gestures to her face, seeing Kim pull away from him with a fiery glare.

“This control you think you have over me? It isn’t going to last forever.” Kim warns under her breath, giving him one last look before walking towards the door and gesturing to Pierre.

“Thank you, Pierre. I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye, my love.” The stylist grins and waits for her to leave before he looks over at Monty and shakes his head. “<You would be an absolute **_fool_** to go screwing that up.>” the man judges openly before making the final pen marks on the form beneath him.

His client grins, watching the very girl as she walks across the street outside. “<I know.>”

——

“I still can’t believe you managed to get an invite. You have no idea what an honor it is to at least prep you for it.” Kim smirks at Cassandra’s comment- still grateful that the woman who had helped her with hair and makeup years ago was able to come through last minute once again.

Kim stands in front of the large mirror in her hotel, admittedly impressed with the reflection staring back at her. Pierre had stopped by to drop off the dress not too long ago, along with a pair of heels he’d chosen on behalf of Monkey Fist’s request. She’s still frustrated with him, and those same feelings bubble up again when Cassandra is wondering why the hair and makeup request is so...particular.

“Is it crazy if I say I’d rather be doing _anything_ else?” Kim asks, seeing the woman behind her begin to pack up her equipment.

“Only a little.” Cassandra offers a smile, “But seeing you like this? There’s only _one_ place you belong tonight. Knock ‘em dead, alright?”

The two share a gentle goodbye, and the moment she leaves she can feel herself being filled with dread. She feels like an imposter, no matter her worldly achievements. And going in there one? Will these people really be as awful as Monkey Fist suggests? And then there is the matter of him. Who will be arriving any moment. Kim reminds herself the plan, and the reason why she’s doing this. It helps just a little to get her out the door and towards the black car waiting for her.

She smiles softly at the driver who opens the door and helps her into the car. The moment her warm skin touches cool leather, she sees the very figure at the other end turning to face her. Kim hates the smile that comes to his lips as his eyes rake over her, the sheer attention seeing her legs cross and arms fold as if to somewhat cover herself.

“You listened.” He sounds impressed, and she’s wondering if there was an opportunity to defy him without penalty.

“I followed the plan.” Kim corrects, looking back over to him and wishing he would let up on his gaze.

“Are you ready?” The question sees her smirk, shaking her head as she is as honest as she can be.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I think.” The comment sees the man move closer, something that strikes fear in her. He settles at her side, still facing her as he produces in his hand a sleek black box.

“I have something for you.” She couldn’t be more glad for the darkness that covers them in that moment. Her skin and insides on fire as she looks to the gift in hand. What could he possibly be giving her? And why? “Don’t worry. It’s not for you to keep.”

As if that’s meant to ease her.

The man opens the box and even beneath the shadows she can clearly see the stones and metals sparkle with radiance. A necklace, one far more beautiful than she’s ever seen- let alone wear. Kim’s first instinct is to part her lips in awe, clearly taken with its beauty. But she forces her eyes up to Monkey Fist’s who awaits her comment.

“And where did you lift this from?”

“It _belongs_ to me.” He scoffs, gently taking the piece of jewelry from the box and moving in to place it around her neck. Expertly so, she observes. She at least lifts her hair for gentle fingers to do their task, feeling goosebumps over her skin as those digits drift from her person. The man observes her in silence then, keeping close to her.

“You look beautiful.” The comment is unexpected, leaving Kim blushing and diverting her gaze away from him as if it would help ease that sudden tension. Monkey Fist calling her beautiful? She hates the way her mind reminds her that if this were years earlier when he was only known to the world as Monty Fiske, Kim would melt at such a comment. But that isn’t the case now. The man is cruel and conniving and simply enjoying the current power he has over her.

She’s certain _that_ is the beauty he sees.

“Stop.” As if he would. It’s been clear throughout this ‘partnership’ that only one of them is able to call the shots.

“You don’t enjoy compliments?”

“Not when they come from _you._ ”

“Because you think they are disingenuous.”

“I _know_ they are.” Kim looks back to him then, meeting his gaze with narrowed eyes. “You only say and do things solely to get what _you_ want. This is no exception.”

The necklace upon her feels heavier now. As if it is nothing short of a collar with its invisible leash held captive by the man in question. The man who remains amused by her comments, and only seeks to delve deeper.

“And what is it you think I want?”

That stumps Kim, simply because she doesn’t know. She doesn’t _know_ what he’s after. Surely it must be something. The mere idea of him saying and doing and _looking_ at her the way he has been out of anything remotely genuine is severely unlike him. Why start now?

“I haven’t figured that out yet.” Kim responds as if disappointed with herself– and she _is_. Trying to stop one criminal while working and trying to figure out another? It wasn’t as easy as she originally thought.

“Perhaps I merely want to make you feel as beautiful as you are.”

He is **_relentless_**.

“I don’t _need_ you to do that.” Their conversation grows tense, and Kim is intent on getting them off of the path that feels like a plummet at this point. “Can we focus, please?”

“I _am_ focused.” Monkey Fist’s answer sees her shift to face him then, fighting the subtle fear his proximity brings her.

“What’s your angle, Monkey Fist? You told me– _promised_ me we would get this done. That we would _win_. Somehow I don’t think playing this little game is going to get us there.”

His head cocks to the side, clearly motivated to keep this all uncomfortable for her. “Do you think so poorly of me that a mere compliment suggests I’m plotting against you?”

“You ask that as if you haven’t given me reason to. You do things that work in favor for you, and _only_ you.”

“I struggle to see how that makes us different, Kimberly. After all, this case has you _rattled_ …not because you’re bleeding for the rich who have lost their precious property, but because you’re losing. And you **_hate_** to lose.”

“We are **_not_** the same.”

“No. We’re _not_ …which is why this _works_. You’re so eager to distrust me for the very reasons that _brought_ you to me. You _know_ I’ll get the job done…even if its methods are the very same in which you fight so hard against.” The car stops then, Kim quietly stunned to see that they are finally there– but she is still far too distracted by the man who keeps her attention with words crafted in a truth she’s not willing to admit.

He produces something small then and despots it into her hand. An earpiece. One she puts in quickly before one of the valet approach to open her door. “Go enjoy the party, Kimberly.” Monkey Fist muses before settling back and flashing her one lasting grin. “We’ll be in touch.”

And so they will be. Kim presses her lips and gives him one last look before taking the hand that helps her from the car. She stands upon carpeted steps, staring up at the massive estate before her, and against her own will…all she can think of is just how alone she feels. That despite their recent conversation and the ones earlier that day…she could really use his help right about now.


	5. After Party

The place is packed.

Kim’s grip tightens on the clutch in her hands, green eyes shifting around to the many characters grouped together and enjoying the extravagant festivities. She’s never felt so out of place, even if she’s dressed like she belongs there. Swallowing hard, she walks through the floor of patrons who drink, laugh, and enjoy the many entertainers sprinkled amongst them. Eyes are felt upon her, but she doesn’t allow herself to find who they belong to. Spotting the long tables of food where there seems to be sufficient space to at least breathe, she heads over to it.

“ _Feeling overwhelmed yet?_ ”

Monty’s voice is heard in her ear then, nearly making her jump as she collects a flute of champagne walking nearby. She finds herself grateful to hear him, scanning her immediate surroundings before deeming it safe to respond.

“Overwhelmed is putting it lightly. You used to ** _enjoy_** this?”

“ _Hardly. It was a necessary evil, Kimberly._ ”

“I could argue that you think all evil is necessary.” She drawls, taking to the bubbly liquid in kind.

“ _Then perhaps you don’t_ ** _know_** _me as well as you_ ** _think_** _you do. A conversation for later, perhaps._ ” She fights to roll her eyes, smiling over her glass at a group of men who smirk and wave at her. “ _Don’t go getting distracted_.”

“If you knew what I was in the middle of, you might find that’s not exactly the _easiest_ task.”

“ _I’m seeing everything you are, and more. This hall is designed to keep most of the guests complacent and entertained._ ” Kim narrows her eyes at that, looking around as if he’s implying that…he’s also in there with her.

Is he?

“ _Meanwhile, our VIPs are elsewhere. Away from the entertainment, and in a far more quiet area. Those men waving at you? Bankers who barely made the guest list, no doubt. And that woman to your left– looking like a swan who had been vomit on by an 8 year old girls birthday party? An aspiring model who will no doubt be signing a contract by the end of the night. Not a_ ** _modeling_** _contract, of course–._ ”

“Are you _here?_ ” Kim lowers her glass, trying to decide whether or not the prospect of him being in the room with her is a good or bad thing.

“ _I’m exactly where I_ ** _need_** _to be._ ” A cryptic response from the man which shouldn’t surprise her as much as it does, “ _My_ ** _point_** _is– don’t converse with anyone in this room. They’ll only waste your time. Go to the end of the hall, and then make a right. There’s a smoking room there, and better drinks no doubt._ ”

Placing her glass down, she does as suggested. Of course, just getting to the back of the hall proves to be more difficult than suspected. Men trying to get her attention, and some even gently grabbing her arm or stepping in her path to offer a drink– Kim expertly dodging them with polite rejections. It _does_ alarm her that some of them look older than her father, but she ignores it and continues on.

She doesn’t even make it into that room before a familiar face is coming up to her with a beaming grin. “Kimberly! How wonderful to see you here! It’s about time you were recognized for all of your hard work.”

Madeline Caswell. One of the first victims who Kim had known before all of the thefts began. She smiles softly, accepting the hug that the woman gives her then. “Mrs. Caswell, it’s nice to see a familiar face here.”

“Quite daunting, isn’t it?” The woman chuckles and pulls away before gesturing her hand to follow. “Come, let us fetch you a drink. Shall we wait for your date? The freckly boy, what was his name again?”

“Oh, you’re thinking of Ron. He’s actually not here with me tonight. I decided to fly solo.” She offers a sheepish grin, following Madeline into the room where she immediately spots more of the victims chatting amongst themselves and others she doesn’t recognize.

“ _Right. As if you’d ever come here with that sort of obnoxious_ ** _accessory_** _._ ” Monkey Fist is heard in her ear then, seeing her grit her teeth.

“ ** _You_** are being obnoxious.” She retorts, quickly paling in the face when the woman turns around with a drink being handed towards her.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, sorry– just…talking to myself. Thanks.” Kim smiles and takes the drink, engaging further in conversation with the woman while trying not to be obvious in her curiosity of the room. She does fairly well, noting that her presence alone is beginning to get more looks. It seems the monkey master might have been…right, in his _creative_ decisions.

And while the attention is admittedly nice, she’s trying to focus on any that stand out. A difficult feat, having to juggle the conversation as well. Luckily enough, another woman comes by and after a small introduction, steals Madeline away. Leaving Kim with her new drink and looking around the room.

“ _Finally. I was falling asleep._ ”

“Your comments aren’t helping.” Kim mutters, moving over to the large fireplace where she observes the trinkets upon its mantel. “I don’t see anyone worth speaking to just yet. Are you still…watching?”

“ _Not quite. There is a…_ ** _private_** _room attached to the one you’re in, but I advise you not to go in it. If something happens, I won’t be able to get in there._ ”

Kim makes a face before responding under her breath with a tinge of annoyance. “If I can handle _you_ , what makes you think I can’t handle a few more arrogant **_ass-_**.”

“Miss Possible, I presume?”

Kim turns around at the voice, surprised when she finds herself looking…down at the short older man who stares up at her. His lips…almost smiling. He wears a white suit and circular glasses. White hair fluffed at both sides of his balding head. It almost humors her that he looks like a mad scientist who has pulled it together for an event. Upon further study, she finds that her description might not be far off.

“I hope I didn’t startle you. I heard you were making your rounds here and…needed to come over an introduce myself.” He sticks out his hand, his hazel eyes almost reading…emotionless.

“Alex Jindosh.”

“ _Alex Jindosh._ ” Both men speak at the same time, “ _He’s got a few screws loose…_ ** _ironic_** _, considering his work._ ”

“Mr. Jindosh…hi.” She quickly remembers exactly why the name is so familiar. Not only was he on the manifest stolen, he was also the very creator of those sentinel machines that nearly killed her and Monty. “Correct me if I’m wrong but…you created the Clockwork Soldiers, right?” Kim plays dumb and tries to pass it off with a polite smile as she shakes his hand.

Cold. Grip lacking strength.

“Indeed. The same soldiers you somehow destroyed.” For a moment she thinks he might be insinuating anger, but his smile somewhat persuades her otherwise.

“Ah, right. Well…it was either them or me, you know? They didn’t exactly have an ‘off’ button.” Kim responds with a nervous laugh, seeing his eyes shift to her necklace momentarily before clearing his throat.

“Well, I suppose we should be glad that it wasn’t you, hm? Without destroying them, I wouldn’t have been able to identify their faults.” He turns as if to leave, before stopping and looking back towards her. “Would you like to see?”

“ _Tell him ‘no’._ ”

“Sure.” Kim ignores the man in her ear, and follows Alex through the room and towards a heavy door nearby.

“ _Kimberly. Do_ ** _not_** _ignore me. Those soldiers are on display out here– I can’t guarantee what you’ll be walking into._ ”

“Just this way, Miss. Possible.” Alex steps to the side and allows her into the room first. Kim thanks him with a small smile, stepping into the private room where she quickly reaches up to turn the ear piece off.

“ _Kim, don’t-._ ”

She has a feeling she will pay for that later, but she needs to focus. There’s a reason why this man had approached her, and she’ll see it through. She takes note of the sentinel soldiers in the corners of the room, not visibly seeing any changes done to them. Still, she takes a seat on the leather tufted sofa in the center of what appears to be a reading room. Placing her glass down, she crosses her legs and smiles over at him as he joins her.

“So, are they here for advertisement, or protection?”

“A little of both. Dufranc was eager to purchase a few especially after news of that horrid thief making his way through all of Europe. Of course, it doesn’t hurt to show them off to potential clients.” Alex explains, nursing his own drink and smirking over it.

“I imagine business is booming, then.”

“Somewhat. It…was a minor set back when they were proved to be indestructible.” Another pointed remark which sees her brows furrowing. “I admit…it _was_ impressive what you and your _friend_ managed to do that night.”

“We did what he had to do. Surely you understand.”

“ _Of course_.” The man grins and nods his head, his eyes shifting back to her neck. “You know, I’m surprised to see you with such a.... _historical_ piece of jewelry. Now I may not know much about teenagers and their hero antics, but… I wonder just where you picked up something so…rare.”

She doesn’t expect that sudden drop of information. It’s a struggle to retain her poker face in that moment, simply nodding and smiling.

“It was a gift.” Kim touches the piece in which he admires, “An overly generous one, sure. It was a ‘thank you’ after I had helped save their home.” She’s glad Monty won’t get to hear her say that, only imaging just how he’d react.

“The owner must not have realized its worth. I’m not sure there’s _anything_ in this world someone could do for me to allow them such a possession. You...realize that necklace has a _sister_ … yes?”

“A sister?” Kim chuckles… nervously. Monty hadn’t mentioned that. He hadn’t mentioned anything, and it sees her begin to worry whether or not he had withheld something from her…or if the man in front of her is lying.

“Indeed. It’s part of a set. Funny… how fate brings us together, Miss Possible. For you see...I **_own_** the other half.”

Red flags fly straight up at that comment. Her eyes go wide and she realizes in that moment exactly what is happening. She realizes just why Monty had placed the necklace upon her. To draw the criminal out. To dangle what they don’t have right in front of them. Surely that must be it…why else would he mention it?

“Oh.” It’s the only reaction she can manage as her fingers reach up to sit upon the glimmering gems.

“Ha! Your confusion is almost believable.” Alex grins widely, downing the rest of his drink and rising back to his feet. Kim stares up at him, thoroughly perplexed.

“I...I’m not sure I understand.”

“Right. Of course you don’t.” His voice turns sour then, “Well, I did promise I’d tell you about the new improvements. Your battle with my machines…it _inspired_ me. The soldiers are ever growing and changing….but I still have other works who are far _beyond_ their capabilities. Take me, for example.”

Kim watches slightly horrified as she stares at the older man who suddenly…stops. Frozen perfectly at mid-pace. He doesn’t move or speak or even…breathe. Rising from the sofa, she circles the man carefully, reaching her hand out to touch his face.

Synthetic.

“Do you understand now, Miss Possible?” A voice comes out of him then, sounding more like a speaker rather than whatever was projecting his voice in speech. The real Alex Jindosh is speaking to her, and he is _not_ in that room.

“Where are you?” Eyes narrowing, she looks around the room feeling…incredibly alone.

“Oh, just at home. I didn’t want Dufranc to think I’d miss her party…but there _is_ work to be done. Not that _you’ll_ ever know…unless of course you are willing to take my exclusive tour. I have just under a hundred sentinels who would be happy to guide you.”

“Is that a **_threat?_** ” Kim’s fists clench together, not at all liking the corner she feels she’s being backed into, and alone…no less.

“Take good care of that necklace, Kim Possible. And enjoy the party.”

A click is heard and the room fills with a dreadful silence. She stands there with her chest tight, the necklace around it feeling as if it were choking her now. Without wasting any time, she storms out of the room, moving past the patrons and those who continue to ogle at her from afar. Her hand moves up to turn the ear piece back on, waiting to speak until she moves further into the estate to find an exit.

“Hey. We’ve got him. It’s Jindosh.” She sees a door that leads into one of the gardens, making her way towards it while hearing nothin in response. Kim tries again, “Monkey Fist, do you hear me? I found him, I–.”

A black figure drops down in front of her then, stealing her breath and leaving her lungs empty when she’s suddenly forced against the wall.

“I told you ** _not_** to go in there.” He growls in her face, pressing her captured wrists against her chest. “Does it **_humor_** you to disobey me?”

A whimper is forced from her lips due to the pressing of his form. He looks angry, and even if a small part of her can understand why, there’s no time to address it now. “I’m _sorry._ ” She offers him, and partly because she is.

“ ** _‘Sorry’_** doesn’t cut it.”

“Will you _please_ listen to me? It’s _Alex_. _He’s_ the one…he practically ** _admitted_** it to me.” Kim struggles to get the words out with the pressure against her lungs, but the moment she does she can feel his hold begin to ease. “You can be mad at me later. Right now we _need_ to get to his house.”

His eyes search her own quietly before he finally lets go of her. Kim is relieved, even if she knows she shot herself in the foot by promising him that he can still show his frustration later. They leave the house then without another word, and reach the car waiting for them just a few roads away.

——

“Are you ready to explain to me what’s going on?” Monty, despite the anger still drenched in his voice, holds his hand up for her to help her step down from the helicopter. Kim, distracted, takes it and gestures to the pilot who is instructed to wait where he is. The two begin to make their way towards yet another massive house that sits on the coast of France. Despite changing out of her outfit, the necklace remains within her pocket. A possible device for leverage.

“Are you ready to _listen?_ ” Kim asks him in return, raising a skeptical brow at him.

“Far more _than_ you, apparently.”

Kim rolls her eyes at that, her hand gently swatting him in the arm. “Hey, I _said_ I was sorry. I did it for a reason and not for _nothing_.”

“ ** _I’ll_** be the judge of that. Well?”

With a soft sight, Kim explains the best she can while still letting the information develop in her head. “He kept bringing up the soldiers…those sentinel machines. It was as if he resented me for ** _you_** destroying them. Told me that sine then he’s been making improvements. Like I …helped him in some way.”

She looks over to him then, curious on how he’ll react with her next comment, “I never learned what changes he made…but…he showed me **_another_** machine he had been working on. It was _him_. He wasn’t even at the party. It was like…a robot of _him_.”

Monkey Fist stops then, turning to face her. “The _thief_. He’s–.”

“That’s what I’m thinking, too.”

A robot. Programmed for perfection. With no wants or desires…just built to perform a task. She sees his features soften for a moment as he looks down at her. It’s clear he’s still displeased, but there is some hope that her information might change his attitude now. With a nod of his head, he continues on and leads them closer to the house.

“You know what we’ll be facing in there, right?” Kim asks, remembering the vague threat of a sentinel presence within its walls. “Don’t you think we should call for backup?”

“We can handle it. Besides…this is _your_ work. No one else should take the credit for it.”

“Even you?” She sees him smile at that, turning to glance at her over his shoulder.

“I’m not as _greedy_ as you think. I’ll let you have it.”

Kim smirks at that, her hand reaching out to take hold of his arm– getting his attention and bringing them to another stop.

“Monty.” They’re close now, and not before long they will surely be reaching the final chapter of this obscure journey together. And because of that, Kim knows it’s now or never to address that last bit of information. The one that sits uncomfortably within her. That brings her…doubt.

“Oh? Feeling a little more _familiar_ now?” He muses as he steps into her space, seeing her hand withdraw from him. Kim feels heat in her cheeks but forces herself to ignore it.

“Hey, listen to me.” She stares up at him with threaded brows, quietly hoping that the answer she wants is the answer that will come. “When we were in that room... there’s something I...didn’t mention to you.”

His face twists into something sour then, visibly unsettled by her words. “Did he or… ** _it_** do something?”

“No no... he _said_ something. He… recognized the necklace you leant me.” His brows raise slightly then, “He mentioned there was another one....that it was the other half to a set.” And it’s in that moment that she knows the answer. Knows it before she even asks it. “Did you...know that?”

“I did.”

Her heart sinks a little at that.

“I get the feeling you’re not telling me something. I mean…if you knew it was a set…it could also be assumed that you knew who had the other half.” Kim fears she may be stepping too far. After all, what sense would it make for him to make her jump through hoops just to get her exactly where they are now? “I also get the feeling we are...nearing the end to all of this. Monty… what am I about to walk into?”

A chance. For him to explain…to perhaps confirm or deny the feelings twisting in her gut. He’s silent for a long moment, and she knows that can’t mean anything good. The smile that appears afterwards makes it worse. Grinning…as if he’s _proud_.

“You truly do amaze me, Kimberly. But quite frankly, you are **_ahead_** of schedule. All of your questions will all be answered soon enough. For now, _rest._ ”

His hands lunge at her, one of them clamping down over her nose and mouth. Something sweet and ethereal that renders her useless as her limbs grow weak and body weightless. Fighting against him and breathing heavy didn’t help as she feels herself slumping against his form.

Kim’s vision goes dark. Images slipping in and out from her mind as she feels herself being carried over his shoulder. She can see the ground beneath them, fighting to stay conscious. She’ll ultimately lose that battle…but not without her lasting thought:

He betrayed her.

Kim wakes upon a cold marble floor moments later. Bright lights burn her eyes, and when she moves her hands to shield them, the tight binds around her wrists are felt.

“I didn’t think you’d actually be able to do it.” A voice is heard– one eerily familiar now.

_Jindosh._

“I’ll **_pretend_** you didn’t just say that.”

Monty, now. No… ** _Monkey Fist_**.

“Ah… ** _The_** Kim Possible. Finally…apart of my ever-growing collection.” She stirs and finally lets her vision settle upon the tall figure standing over her. The Monkey Master’s foot pushes her shoulder, rolling her onto her back so that both men can observe her. Anger rises inside of her chest, but it feels helpless as her limbs hold no strength. “Do help her, Monty. I want her to get a good look at her new home.”

Strong hands bring her to her feet with ease, allowing her to see the large foyer in all of its glory: packed with sentinel soldiers. She even sees the very thief…standing at attention between the large staircases.

All of it…a trap.

Here she is, alone…no Wade, no Ron, and no Global Justice. Just the way Monkey Fist wanted. It’s no wonder _why_ , now.

“You **_LIAR!_** ” Kim fights her way out of his hold, turning to glare at him with an anger in her eyes that is so shamefully fragile.

“Did you _really_ expect anything less?” Monkey Fist asks her, folding his arms over his chest. “Someone had found a way to run _you_ in circles. But that was never going to be enough. You don’t need to be distracted, you need to be ** _controlled_**.”

“An idea I’d not considered until Monty presented it to me. With you gone…the villains will roam free. And with the villains at their _leisure_ … ** _everyone_** will want one of my soldiers.” Alex further clarifies, leaving Kim on the border of tears. They say it as if it is all so obvious…and it _is_. How did she miss it?

Kim shakes her head, falling to her knees as she desperately tries to think of a way out of this while fighting herself from thinking how she got into it in the first place.

“You thought you were so clever. _Untouchable_. As if you could dodge the raindrops forever. I’ll very much enjoy studying you, Miss Possible. All of your efforts…they won’t be in vain.”

There’s a prick in her shoulder then.

And then there is nothing.


	6. Definitions

He lied.

Lied to _her_. Fooled her. **_Again_**.

Kim’s wrists are drawn up over her head, painfully so. Her ankles shackled as well, with only enough chain to get her feet a few inches off of the floor. The moment she woke up in this… _cell_ ….all she wanted to do was fight. To claw her way out of the metal around her wrists and ankles. To escape and get her _justice_. But Kim quickly remembers what waits for her outside of those bars. Deadly machines and two obsessive men holding their leashes. So instead she _thinks_ ; knowing that is all she _can_ do.

Thinking proves useless, however. Her mind keeps running into the same thoughts. The same memories. Trying to find what she so obviously missed. She believed him. **_Trusted_** him. Listened to everything he told her to do. Everything that worked out for _him_ in the end. She was all alone…completely helpless.

He knew **_exactly_** what he was doing.

Whatever drug was used to put her out begins to wear off. Kim thankful for that, as she knows that the first opportunity she sees, she’ll need all the strength and energy possible to make it out alive. A window that might be opening sooner than expected when she hears the closing of a heavy door nearby. The very idea that this guy has a dungeon in his home is disconcerting, and more so that she seems to be the only one within it. She wonders whether or not the collector will soon be moving on from objects…to _people_.

Expecting to see that horrid face, she is met with another instead.

Monkey Fist.

He stands in front of the bars, leaning his shoulder against it and staring right at her. Kim clenches her jaw, knowing there’s nothing more he could want than for her to lose her cool while wrapped up like a gift. So she will remain silent, and meet his unbothered gaze.

“So, do you hate me yet?” The question almost sounds genuine, but a grin comes afterwards and throws any decency out the window. Retaining her silence, she watches as he pushes off of the bars and opens the door to the cell. He steps inside and she can’t believe the ache in her chest when she looks upon his face.

 _Saving_ her from the sentinel.

Handing her that _sword_.

Placing that necklace upon her and announcing her _beauty_.

All of it…a ** _lie_**. It seems impossible now, considering how real they all felt in the moment. But he played his part and he played it well.

“Ah. A cold shoulder… I suppose I deserve that.” Monkey Fist continues to grin, stepping further into the cell and admiring the work before him. He bites down on his lip, eyes sizing her up as if he were wondering what part of her he’d consume first. Like a feast, for the wolf who had lead the little lamb right to where she was.

Kim continues to watch him, feeling all walls and defenses come up with every step that he takes. And by the time he stands right in front of her, she’s ready for whatever else he has to throw at her. Ready to meet the mistake of trusting him head on.

He lets out a dramatic breath, tilting his head to the side, “Seeing you like this…strung up and **_helpless_** …makes me second guess having to let you go.” His voice is soft and distracted.

“Don’t you _ever_ get tired of lying?” She can’t hold her tongue any longer despite knowing fully well that the words are only meant to get a rise out of her. He’s close now. Too close. And if she can’t fight back physically, she’ll need to at least try and control the dialogue.

“Not really.” The man shrugs his shoulders, “Lying is what got us here. Lying is what made us _win_.”

“ _Us?_ You mean you and that deranged psychopath?”

“That _deranged psychopath_ is currently waiting upstairs for you. Gift-wrapped, by yours truly.” Monkey Fist smirks and bows his head to her, leaving Kim completely appalled.

“Right, like I’m supposed to believe you now? Why don’t you cut me free and try speaking the same nonsense.”

“Not just yet, Kimberly. I quite enjoy you like this... nowhere to go… at **_my_** disposal.” His hand reaches up, tucking a rogue lock of hair behind her ear. “I _really_ shouldn’t have let you change out of your dress…”

Kim jerks her head away from his hand, her composure quickly beginning to crumble. “You **_lied_** to me! You…you ** _tricked_** me! How dare you just…come in here…and _pretend_ –.”

“Pretend _what?_ ” Black brows raise at her, curious just where her thoughts are going.

She takes a few deep breaths, feeling her eyes begin to burn. Looking away from him, she shakes her head. She won’t give him the satisfaction…and it turns out, she won’t need to.

“Pretend that I didn’t _lie?_ That I _admire_ the work you’ve done to get to this point? Or…pretend that I’m _interested?_ ” Kim’s eyes widen a little at that, taking a chance to look up at him. She doesn’t find any deceit on his face…and yet…he _had_ hidden it so well before. Still, the man acknowledges the undertones of their working together. Of the things neither could address while working to reach their goal. It surprises her to hear him bring it to life…and just as well… _worries_ her.

“I’ll give you an option, Kimberly, before I set you free to collect your reward.” He folds his hands behind his back then, straightening his shoulders. “I’ll answer that burning question for you– explaining just **_how_** it is we got to this very spot. _Or_ …” his hand reaches out then, gripping at the chains beneath her wrists and leaning down close to her face, “I can skip right to letting you go, and prove to you that nothing I’ve said or done was ever under any **_pretense_**.”

Kim lets out a wince both in part from the tug of the chains and the proximity of his figure. Of course there is a small part of her wanting to choose that second option, but she can’t leave without answers. And she won’t let him _prove_ anything without them either.

“I want _answers_ , Monkey Fist. I want to know ** _why_** you betrayed me.”

He almost looks a little disappointed at her choice, but it sees him back off and sigh, “No more _‘Monty’_ , I see. Alright. Let’s see if I can’t undo all of that distrust, hm? Oh… _where_ to begin?” He taps his chin and raises a brow as if genuinely trying to decide.

“Starting at the point where you decided to screw me over _might_ be a good start.” Kim mutters, seeing the smirk grow on his lips.

“An _interesting_ choice in words.” He flashes her a devious grin before sighing, “Though I do imagine that is the way it looks to you, isn’t it? That at some point after you asked for my help, I plotted behind your back. A rookie move, Kimberly. I mean, you **_do_** realize that I was far more dedicated than _that_.”

She doesn’t like where this is going, but hears him out…as much as it stings.

“You chased this thief around the continent. Watching him steal from the rich…the greedy…the powerful. Surely you can think of _someone_ you know that might just fit those categories?”

Her eyes go wide then. It dawns on her….rendering her completely speechless for a few moments until finally she can speak.

“He stole ….from ** _you?_** ” Kim shakes her head, “You’d… _never_ allow that. I– I don’t believe that.”

“Well, he had stolen from a castle I had abandoned a couple lifetimes ago. It didn’t take me long to find out Jindosh was behind it. The early stages of his prototype weren’t as invincible then the ones you encountered. But I _knew_ the man. And I knew what waited in this place. As angry as I was, I couldn’t simply walk in here expecting to walk out in one piece. I needed something… ** _someone_** to bring to him…that would ensure my safety.”

“You wanted me to come to you. _Expected_ me to.”

“And you **_didn’t_** disappoint. Those artifacts he stole? Ideas I anonymously dropped to him.”

“Things only **_you_** would be an expert on.”

“Exactly."

“So that house…the party…all of that was for _what?_ ”

“To gain your trust. To get you here _organically_. After that night at the house, I went to him with my offer. Assured him that we both had the same goal in mind. Getting rid of you…for _good_. He didn’t think playing the long game would prove successful. I convinced him otherwise. The deal was to bring you here…a win for us **_both_**. Plus, the man lives for the drama. Betraying you was no doubt a dream come true for him to watch.”

“So you brought me here. _Drugged_ me. Tied me **_up_** – and I missed _what_ exactly?”

“Oh, I don’t want to ruin the surprise. You’ll see it all eventually. Let’s just say the stolen object is now back in _my_ possession, Mr. Jindosh is taking a nice little nap, and all of the stolen artifacts are accounted for on the second floor.”

“What did he steal from you?” But Kim’s answer comes the moment she asks it…the pieces falling together in her mind, “It was the necklace, wasn’t it? The other half. You went through all this trouble for a _necklace?_ How much could it possible mean to you?”

His face shifts then, into something far more serious.

“ ** _A lot._** ”

She’ll take his word for it.

“I can’t believe you. All of this work… _using_ me…you could have _told_ me. We could have planned this together. I would have **_helped_** you!”

“And you did. I needed it to be convincing, Kimberly. You played your part expertly.” He steps back into her space then, his knuckles suddenly felt upon her exposed mid-rift. She sucks in her breath, seeing him lean closer to her. “We _did_ have fun, didn’t we?”

“You still lied.”

“I’d do it again, too. Now, as for that _other_ option…” His free hand reaches up for her own, pushing into her fists something warm and metal. A key. He turns to speak into her ear, his lips brushing her lobe as he utters the words, “ _You know where to find me._ ”

He moves off of her abruptly then, flashing her a smirk before turning and leaving the cell. She’s only got so much time before he escapes completely, and after all of this? Kim won’t allow it. There’s no way all of that is the truth. No way that that picture he paints is what she will find upstairs.

She’s quick to release her wrists, biting through the pain at her shoulders and back when her arms come down from the stretched position. Crouching down, she unlocks the cuffs at her ankles, practically tripping as she lunges forward out of them. Kim sprints in his direction, noting one of the sentinels at the bottom of the steps completely destroyed.

Kim starts skipping over steps to get to the top faster, finally getting to the foyer where Monkey Fist is nowhere to be found. Only dozens of the soldiers torn apart…and their maker laying in the center with a gag in his mouth and ropes tied tight around his arms.

She stands in that room and takes in the sight before her.

He _was_ telling the truth.

——

“You finally did it.”

Kim leans against one of the many police cars, visibly distracted despite the scene before her. Crews heading in and out of the house, collecting the stolen property and seizing the parts to all of the sentinel soldiers. From what she hears, the same is happening all over Europe, even at the party she had attended just hours ago. She wants to feel relief, to take a well-deserved breath of air...

Yet all she can do is think of _him_.

The man responsible for all of this. The man who went to extreme lengths to get back what was stolen, and to make sure it never happened again. She almost respects it. She _would_ , if it were not done at her expense. And sure, she is for the most part…unharmed. And ** _sure_** , he _did_ keep his word…

But why can’t she let it go? Why does she still quietly seethe deep inside?

“Kim? You…alright?”

Snapping out of her thoughts, she looks to Betty who had been the first on scene when Kim had called for help. The two of them putting aside their differences to acknowledge that the case was finally complete.

“Yeah…sorry. Just glad this is all over.” Kim breathes out the words, watching as Alex Jindosh– now finally conscious, is lead out to one of the cars.

“Well, listen, we can take it from here. You did great work, Kim. Stay in touch…and go get some sleep.” A hand squeezes her shoulder, seeing Kim smile softly. Betty is right, of course, and the longer Kim sticks around, the longer she will dwell on all of the things that see her headache doubling.

She heads over to one of Global Justice’s helicopters, stepping in and resting back into the seat while the pilot looks back at her.

“Back to Paris, Miss Possible?” She’d love to say yes. To get her room packed and head straight for the airport. But that’s not how all of this ends. While the case is finished, there are still loose ends to tie up– ones required if she ever wishes to find a peaceful sleep.

“No.” She answers, pulling the seat belt over her and placing the headset over her ears. “The alps.”

——

By the time Kim pops the window open, the sun is kissing the horizon. No amount of color or light will save her from the harsh cold which surrounds the castle. Not for the first time, she’s grateful for the warmth that greets her as she leaps down to the floor. Kim surveys the long and dark hallway that shows no sign of the monkey master. The place is eerily quiet, with not even a singular peep from one of the many monkeys she knows resides there. Kim carefully wanders down the corridor, tempted to call out his name– to draw him forth to her.

But she _knows_ that he’s there. That _he_ knows that _she’s_ there. Kim has no doubt that when he’s ready to reveal himself, he will. And so she heads towards the armory, heading straight past it and into a part of the castle she’d never been. She finds herself walking into a large room with two sets of stairs on each side. Between it are large open doors where finally she can see the flicker of light. Kim wastes no time in heading straight towards it, seeing the large fireplace in the open and long room that is lined with massive windows.

The windows look out to the back gardens of the castle, all of which is covered in snow. The room itself sees a grand piano sitting in the corner, as well as two sofas at the center with a table between them. Before she can observe anything else, her attention is drawn back to the fireplace, her eyes drifting up to where a colossal painting sits above. The light from the flames make it look far more ominous than it is.

A man. A woman. A boy.

An oil painting. A family portrait– one that has obviously been… _tampered_ with…considered the large black paint strokes which cover the man’s face. The woman beside him is beautiful, with kind eyes and long dark hair. Her hand sits on the boy’s shoulder– a boy who is unmistakably familiar. With black hair and blue eyes, and a look on his face that she knows all too well. Kim’s mouth goes dry when her eyes settle back to the fireplace, noting the bust which sits on the center of the mantel. She steps closer to study the necklace upon it.

One glance up confirms that the very necklace upon the woman’s neck is the very same in front of her. It doesn’t take her long to realize that the woman is Monty’s mother. And the necklace stolen…belonged to _her_.

“Thirsty?”

Kim whips around to see Monty’s figure on the sofa now, his hands twisting off the top of a square bottle, pouring it into a short glass. He looks exhausted, with his hair a little more unruly than usual, and his gi coming apart a bit at the chest. She steps further into the room, her arms coming up to comfort herself.

“The sun is almost up, Monty.” Whether it’s too early or too late, she knows whatever it is– it isn’t the time for alcohol.

“ _And?_ ”

Kim watches him pour a second glass anyway, before leaning back and throwing his arm over the top of the sofa. It unnerves her to watch him throw back the whole glass, swallowing it down in one smooth gulp as if it were water. Finally, he looks over at her, his eyes void of anything but exhaustion and… acceptance.

“You should have told me.” Her voice is soft, as if to convince him that she’s not there to fight…even if that is what she initially wanted. To make her point in that he shouldn’t have _done_ what he _did_. “I could’ve helped you if I knew–.”

“You _did_ help, didn’t you? We both won, Kimberly. Why dwell on the ‘how’?”

“Because I _trusted_ you…and you made me _pay_ for it.” Kim hates how pathetic she sounds in that moment– but it’s the truth. Whether it was a ploy or not, those feelings of betrayal were as real as ever. “ ** _I_** got hurt…when you promised I wouldn’t be.”

His gaze turns away at that. Monty remaining silent for some time before he sets the glass back down and rises from his seat.

“Perhaps you and I have different definitions of ‘hurt’.” He moves closer to her, the light of the flames beginning to lick the features of his face.

Kim frowns, stepping to the side and glancing over at the painting and the necklace beneath it. “No.” She responds evenly, “I don’t think we do.”

Her eyes are off of him for a few moments, and that’s all it takes before she feels warm fingers curling gently around her wrist. An equally careful tug sees her turned and pulled against his front. Kim’s hands find his elbows as his arms settle around her middle. An intimate hold that steals her breath and challenges her self-control. Past the whiskey on his breath, she can smell _him_. A scent she’d gotten used to, and one she’d secretly began to crave. The gentleness of his arms surprises her, and despite who the man was and the subtleties that lead them to this moment…she can admit that she doesn’t mind it one bit.

“You’re _here_. Which means you’re interested in that second option. Perhaps even willing to _forgive_ me, too.” He’s avoiding it. Erasing what he can of the truth revealed to her. Focusing only on the task at hand…whatever _that_ comes to be.

“Forgiveness requires an _apology_.” Kim reminds him– knowing fully well she shouldn’t expect the words ‘I’m sorry’ to ever come from the man.

She watches his eyes carefully, engulfed by the reflection of flames behind her. Hardly visible are those blue irises– the very same she had both learned to fear and admire. Kim wonders if this is the point where she should stop them. If it’s this chance she has now to back out of what she knows is waiting around the corner.

But even if she could, neither her body or mind would _allow_ it.

“Maybe you and I have different definitions of an apology.”

There it is. The last minute warning before he offers to her his **_own_** version of an apology. A _kiss_. Warm and gentle, not unlike the hands upon the small of her back. Her lips do the thinking for her, accepting that kiss before her mind can tell her not to. She’s been up far too long to consider all of the reasons why she shouldn’t be doing this. He feels nice… _tastes_ nice. This is the very thing she wants right now. To know that he _is_ on her side, that in some incredibly tiny and messed-up way…he _cares_.

_Maybe._

Or perhaps he is simply reaching another goal of his. To claim her the way he couldn’t while keeping things business-oriented. To feed the part of him that is _man._ To perhaps simply say what not many others could; seeing her added to a rare a collection that may not be _physical_.

But how could Kim worry over any of those things?

She’s distracted, and now _annoyed_ when he releases her lips and hovers over them with a sly grin. Baiting her. Letting _her_ decide the next move. To let it end there…or to chase after the painfully small sample he has left her with.

She’s fairly certain that working her way out of his arms is a far more difficult task than simply…leaning forward…

Moving her hands up his chest…

Further towards his _neck_ ….

Rising **_just_** enough on her toes…

It proves _far_ easier. Collecting that warm mouth and allowing his arms to constrict further around her. Her finger’s card into the hair just above his neck, her other hand clinging onto the front of his gi. Despite her decision, Monty takes the lead, setting the pace for them both which starts out slow and heavy. That changes almost instantly when his fingers squeeze hard enough into her flesh that a whimper is forced out of her. The parting of her lips to release the soft sound is just the opening Monty needs to slip his tongue through; to _truly_ taste her.

A slick move that sees Kim’s cheeks tint, partially surprised by the man’s eagerness. Is it wrong for her to wonder whether or not this had been a long time coming? If past the thieving and power hungry plans and _want_ for world domination– this was among it all as well? A question better left for when he isn’t devouring her and seeing her question her own sanity, she finds.

It does worry her just where this will all go, and that concern continues to build as she feels herself growing more and more in need of air. Her hands slide back down to his chest, hoping a gentle push might allow her the luxury of a single breath– but Monty doesn’t like that. Like a viper a hand moves up to grab her jaw, as if to make sure she isn’t thinking about escaping him. It’s that same move which then tells her she _needs_ to. Before the attempt comes, his teeth latch onto her bottom lip at a bruising force, giving it a gentle pull before releasing it. Kim takes her chance then, seeing her push and squirm out of his hold which is just _nearly_ successful… until his hand captures her wrist and draws her back at an alarming effort.

“Too much?” Monty grins down at her, eager to keep her right where she is. “I _can_ be gentle…” Words purred that don’t at all sound very convincing, and have him leaning back down to reclaim swollen lips.

This time, Kim gets away successfully. He looks halfway annoyed and pleased, and looking at Kim who is flushed and coming out of a dangerous daze. She takes another step back, knowing she needs to leave before this all gets out of a hand.

“I still haven’t forgiven you.” They’re the only words that come to mind.

Monty scoffs in response, “You didn’t let me finish my apology.”

Kim presses her lips, wondering just what it is that would be considered a full apology from the man. She accepts that for now, she just won’t know. Won’t _allow_ herself to know. With a few more steps, Kim gives him a lasting look, one of sincerity and a little pain before turning and leaving the castle.

“Goodbye, Monty.”

——

The helicopter takes her to a car that brings her back to the hotel in Paris. Morning has already greeted the city, and the sun remains a painful reminder of her need for sleep. A plane waits for her at the airport, and she simply cannot wait to be on it.

Upon entering the hotel room, Kim exhales deeply when she sees the bed- wishing more than anything that she could dive right into it and sleep through the next couple of days. But she can’t stay here any longer. Not in this country _or_ continent. So she quickly gathers her things, scanning the room for anything she’s missed until she spots a black matte bag sitting just near the door. Curiosity sees her go to it, wondering if it’s exhaustion that has her forgetting what it is.

When she peeks inside, she spots a large sleek black box. She knows now for certain that it’s nothing she remembers bringing back, and with Pierre’s logo upon it... she is further confused. She’d already packed her dress away– hadn’t she? Sitting on the edge of the bed, she opens the box fully and sees a small card sitting over the tissue paper. Picking it up, it reads:

_Pierre was right. It was made for you._

_Enjoy it._

_M.F._

Kim’s eyes go wide then, her hands peeling back the paper and lifting the fabric which is folded perfectly within the box. What she sees is the dress he had denied her. The one that made her feel like a woman beyond this earth. It belongs to her now, thanks to him. She holds it close to her chest, closing her eyes and thinking of the man she’d left in that castle. The one who has now imprinted himself both on her lips and in her soul.


	7. Playing Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picks up a few weeks after last chapter where Kim reaches out to Monty in need of...some help on a new mission. I was simultaneously writing this chapter with the new one on Escaping Death so I'm like 10000% sure there's a ton of errors lmao so I might need to come back to this one to edit it but uh....yeah enjoy!!!

“Are you going to stare at me like that all evening?”

“Did you have another suggestion?”

“Uh, your _meal_.”

“Heh…I fail to see the _difference_.”

Kim hates the way her skin burns at that comment. Her eyes flash towards the man who sits with a wide grin on his lips, visibly proud of the comment made and the reaction received. It’s been a few weeks since her last night in France, when that kiss was shared and the gift was left in that hotel room. She went home having completed a long and stressful mission with far more conflict than she began with. Monkey Fist…kept his word. And that gift was an open invitation…to perhaps continue where they had left off.

She keeps it close to the chest, hiding it from everyone besides the one person she knows can keep a secret. Wade. Who knows _exactly_ where she is tonight, a top a mountain miles away from her home in Colorado. A restaurant far too upscale for any wages she could manage as a student. But it is where her new target is dining for the night, and there was no way she was letting that dress sit in her closet forever. And considering the very man had gifted it to her…there was no one else she thought would be right to join her that evening. Even if it ** _is_** for a mission. That was the way it was pitched to Monty, of course, who gave her quite an easy ‘yes’.

“This isn’t a date, Monty.” She knows that’s not true. Sure, he knows how to blend into this crowd, and sure…she feels… _safe_ that he’s there. Any wrong attention won’t be attracted to her with him by her side, but in truth… that’s not the _only_ reasons she asked him.

“Your reconnaissance not withstanding, you _did_ invite me here. And considering you’ve not run off yet to pursue your target, I’d say this **_is_** a date. I might even dare to say that it’s going well.” Monty points out, making the obvious even _more_ obvious.

“It was always going to go well as long as you _behaved_.” Kim flashes him a small smirk- still with a warning in her eyes.

“I _can_ be a gentleman when I want.”

“And just as easily, the _opposite_ of that.”

“There’s a time and a place for _both_.”

It feels like a dream to be sitting there with him. It was just weeks ago that Kim couldn’t think of one reason why she’d ever speak or trust him again. Locked within that cell, hurting in more ways than one. And now she’s here. Sharing a dinner and a bottle of wine with the monkey master. That kiss shared within his castle lingers on her still. A kiss that said so many things that even now she can’t quite understand.

Only one thing was gleaned that night: he likes her. And it took those three weeks afterwards to learn that she may _also_ return the sentiment. She was curious and sometimes angry with herself for cutting that kiss short. Surely there was more to learn, more she could have gotten from him- if only he did not frighten her so. If only he were not a violent man who’s obsessions speak only to the worst qualities that he carries.

Even then as she sits across the table, staring at a face she now realizes is far more handsome than she could admit before, those qualities are nowhere to be found. All she sees is Monty. The man who crafted an elaborate plan to win back his mother’s necklace. The man who apologizes with a kiss.

“You do look good in that dress, Kimberly.” Monty pulls back her attention, wiping his mouth after taking the last bite of his meal. It was humoring to watch him eat: the perfect gentleman with astounding posture and politeness that is quickly stripped away when it’s just them. At one point she even needed to smack his hand away away from her own meal in which he took much interest in.

“Funny you never mentioned it when I tried it on.” She won’t let him forget, as she remembers all too well her anger in that moment when he denied her of it. The man scoffs then, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms.

“Not wanting you to wear it for anyone else? Surely my _compliment_ can be found within that.”

“Compliment? More like _greed_.” Kim points out, smirking as she watches him roll his eyes at her, “Now that you mention it, how many of those ‘compliments’ have I missed over the years?”

He doesn’t answer that one, only respond with a smirk that hides behind another sip of his glass. She should have guessed that he wouldn’t reveal that to her.

“No exchange yet?” He changes the subject, reminding her just what they’re there to do. With a soft sigh, her eyes shift to the table at the corner of the dining room. Her target’s back shown to her, still enjoying his meal along with his entourage.

“Nothing that I could see. Then again, you _are_ proving to be quite the distraction.” There are moments she second guesses her decision to bring him here. Quietly enjoying her time spend with him, so much so that she worries her attention isn’t completely on the mission at hand.

“Heh. Sounds like a good thing.”

It appears Monty knows that as well.

“Not when my mission is on the line.”

Monty picks up his spoon then, peering into it with a raised brow. “Don’t you worry, my dear. I’ve been keeping close watch.”

“I thought you said you’d only be ‘arm candy’?” That _was_ what he had said. Not wanting to interfere with a ‘fellow’ criminal, is how he had put it over the phone.

“I set the bar low ** _initially_**. That way I can… get a little _extra credit_ along the way.” Right. That makes far more sense, sadly. Everything he chooses to say or do, it’s all part of _his_ plan. Hers just doesn’t exist in his world. The spoon is set back down, and blue eyes cast over her. “Dessert?”

Could she sit another thirty minutes and watch the man in front of her devour another plate? Without question. She nearly blushes at just how eager she is at the very thought. Just as well, it would delay the end to all of this. She knows, however, that no matter when this ends…she will be met with another hurdle: saying goodbye.

He greeted her with a kiss to her cheek. Warm and deliberate. His hand settled upon the small of her back while they walked to the table. Unafraid and unapologetic in his…display of affection. If that _is_ what one could call it. Point being: more was to come the moment they left that table. She knew that– and while it did in some part excite her, it also terrified her all the same.

Seeing her target, the dealer, stand suddenly along with the rest of his crew ultimately makes the decision for them.

“He’s leaving.” Kim straightens up, seeing Monty react before she gets the chance to. He reaches into his pocket and grabs for his keys before depositing them on the table near to her.

“Go start the car. I’ll keep an eye on him.” She tries not to show her surprise, rising to collect the set of keys and just as she does so, she spots the exchanging of hands. The subtle slip of a free one into the buyer’s pocket.

“Blue tie.” Kim notes to Monty as she walks by him.

“I see it.”

She leaves the restaurant, clicking the key fob to locate Monty’s car and getting into the passenger seat to wait for him. She reaches over to press the ignition, watching both entrances to the building while pulling out her communicator to update Wade.

“We identified the buyer. Monkey Fist has the tracker still.”

“Think he’ll be able to get it on him without blowing your cover?” A valid question, one that Kim can only answer honestly when she watches Monty walk through the doors and single out the buyer in the parking lot, pretending to be distracted before bumping into him. The move sees her smirk,

“I think he’s got it covered.”

“I see it, it’s activated now. You sure we shouldn’t follow him? We could end this all here tonight.”

“That’s assuming Monty will play nicely. I’d rather wait for Ron to get back from his trip– not sure I want to chance taking them on alone…especially in this dress. We’ll get the freight location and go from there.”

“‘Monty’, huh? _That_ familiar and you don’t think he’d be game to help?”

Kim’s eyes flick up to see the man bowing his head to the target as a last apology before heading towards the car. “Not without something in return. I have to go…did you get the plates?”

“Running them now.”

She turns the device off just as Monty opens the door and slides in, his eyes shifting in her direction. “You’re certain you don’t want to follow them now?”

“On a mountain with empty roads? We’d risk the tail, and they’ve already dodged Ron and I more than once. Wade will get their location, and I’ll pick it up another night.”

Monty makes a face, resting back into his seat and shrugging his shoulders. “I’d argue that with _my_ help your chances of being spotted are slim to none.”

“And I’d argue that your track record for _helping_ me isn’t exactly in good standing.” Kim folds her arms and smirks at him, knowing that the safer route is to continue without Monty…even if she is tempted to do the very opposite. One hand dares to reach over to him, gently grabbing his forearm and giving it an encouraging squeeze. “Mind dropping me home?”

Wade had offered a helicopter service, the same way she had arrived there, but she thinks the man beside her wouldn’t pass up the opportunity here. A few moments later, and she’s proved right. “Of course not.” He straightens up and smirks at her, watching as she punches in her address. Just over an hour away. They set off down the mountain, Kim vaguely distracted by the sudden updates Wade sends over to her in the first portion of their trip back.

Finally, when she can safely put the device down without further worry of tracking their target, she looks over to Monty. He’d cleaned up well for this, and of course, it does help that he’s in a fitted suit rather than his ninja garb. Sucking in a soft breath, she finally speaks what’s currently on her mind.

“I may regret making the comment but…you’re not so bad at this.”

That smile on his lips is equal parts charming and devious.

“The _date,_ or helping you?” He’s insistent on getting her to admit what this is. That this was not _just_ a favor he owed her after what he had done back at Jindosh’s mansion. And Kim? She’ll bite.

“Both.”

Monty’s smile grows at that, and as if reading her mind, “Well, as it stands you’ve _now_ run out of favors to ask. So the next time you think to recruit me–.”

“I know, I know. It won’t be _without_ a price. Thanks for ruining it.” She knows there’s a small part of him that _is_ teasing, but it’s not big enough to overshadow the very real fact that Monkey Fist was not going to offer further help without payment.

“You make it sound like you know what the price **_is_**.”

“I set the bar low, _initially_.” Kim grins over at him, delighted at the opportunity to throw those works back his way. He looks just as delighted and amused, but the look in his eyes shifts to something a little more sinister, especially as he glances over at her.

“Don’t make me pull over, Kimberly.”

What she fears more than that threat is the fact that it _excites_ her.

——

They arrive right on time, Monty making sure not to pull into the driveway. He parks on the opposite side of the street, turning the car off and moving to remove his seatbelt. Kim stares at him quietly, not quite sure how to address him.

“Uh, what are you doing?” It comes out before she can think of a better way to say it, and it earns her an expression that is just as confused as he own.

“Walking you to your door. It _is_ the gentlemanly thing to do.” He states that as if it’s obvious, as if Monkey Fist is always that: a gentleman. Not a man-monkey who would do just about anything to get his way. And if this were anyone else, she’d have happily accepted such a gesture.

Only, it’s _not_.

“That’s… _not_ a good idea. My dad has cameras on the house.” Not that he regularly checks them, but with her luck? They’d no doubt be caught.

Her explanation sees Monty rest back into the seat then, looking over to her with a sly smirk on his lips. “Don’t want him to see a criminal kissing his daughter?”

Kim’s not sure that the shadows can hide the blush on her cheeks and neck, realizing that the moment she feared before at the table was now rapidly approaching. As forcefully poised as ever, Kim returns the grin and raises her brows in response. “And who said you’d be getting a kiss?”

He’s quick to answer that one, and she should have guessed what the opposing statement would be, “Who said I’d let you go _without_ one?” She watches him shift and lean closer, his arm perched on the console between them. “I’ve been waiting all night.”

His other hand reaches over to gently collect her jaw, seeing her grateful for the warmth of his skin now upon her own. Without another word he leans in to do them both the favor, but before his lips can meet her own, Kim pulls back with a hand now pressing gently at his chest.

“Monty…” She needs to get her warning in. Needs him to hear her before she crosses this line once again, “ _No one_ can know.”

“Don’t you know by now? I’m good at keeping secrets…”

“You’re good at _lying_.” Kim corrects softly, letting her hand fall from him as the very green light they both need.

In one languid pull they meet in the middle, his hand keeping to her jaw while they kiss over the center console. It’s admittedly not the most comfortable thing, but it’s easy to ignore when she’s given the distraction of his mouth. She spent weeks trying to suppress her pining for this. For reliving that fearful moment within his castle. Kim hopes she isn’t jinxing anything by noting that the man had seemed to learn his lesson. While there’s no way she will assume she has any portion of control, he is far more gentle with her. His tongue slow and bold, allowing her to easily keep pace with him.

If this was the way he had kissed her the first time, she’s almost certain she would have stayed. At least, that’s what she’ll allow herself to believe. _‘I can be gentle’,_ those words echo in her head but one swipe of his tongue over her own sees her utterly careless to any other thought in her head. She doesn’t know how long they sit there for, enjoying the quiet and intimate moment, but she knows it’s long enough for Monty to grow annoyed. He breaks the kiss and pulls back just slightly.

“Let’s get in the back.” A soft idea that passes his lips, forcing Kim to smile and nearly laugh at the thought. _Annoyed_ with the space between them– is that meant to make her stomach flutter so?

“I should go inside, Monty.” Her hand reaches up to gently pull away the one at her face. She’s quietly impressed that he doesn’t stop her, and even when he accepts the gentle kiss she gives him before pulling away completely. Of course, Monty follows suit with getting out of the car as well, quickly intercepting her before she can think to get past him. He leans against the hood of the car, his hand trapping her wrist and pulling her towards him.

“Mm…I’d be _foolish_ to let you _go_.”

“Playing the super villain won’t get me to stay.” Kim warns, allowing him to pull her close so that she stands between his knees.

“What will?”

There’s no answer to that, or at least, none she’s willing to give him. They’ve done enough already, and the longer she stays within his presence the deeper she finds herself in the hole she’s digging.

“Thank you, Monty. For coming… _and_ for dinner.” Kim offers sheepishly, running her hands over his chest before leaning into peck his lips softly.

“I was always going to show up for you.” He almost sounds genuine in that moment. Sweet. She has to remind herself that it is surely due to whatever he wanted out of this evening. Kim presses above his hips to move out of his hold, thinking their night was officially at its end. But his hands remain firm, and she realizes there’s no escaping him just yet. The reason why comes sooner than she expects, “Besides…I figured I’d give you the _chance_.”

Kim scoffs, searching his eyes briefly before she plays along. “The chance? A chance at _what?_ ”

Monty licks his bottom lip and retains his secret for a moment, before allowing her in on it.

“Mm. A chance… to ask me whatever it is you think will be answered by hacking into old servers.”

Kim pales at that.

Her heart almost stops completely.

There’s no hiding the fear or surprise on her face, which makes standing under his gaze that much harder. She has not idea what to say, or whether it is worth even lying to him. And what would the point of that be? Kim’s been caught red handed.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know that you’d been snooping around where you shouldn’t be?”

Finally she pulls it together and swallows hard, managing a response that doesn’t sound entirely pathetic, “I hoped maybe you relied on mythical magic…over _modern technology_.”

“I dabble in _both_ , my dear. Enough to know that you and your friend have been successfully hacking into dummy servers set up for that _very_ purpose. To see who’s coming round looking for information they shouldn’t be.” His grip on her grows tighter, forcing her hands to find his own in hopes of easing them.

“I was curious, Monty. How else was I going to find out?”

“From the source itself.” He gestures to himself. “You asked me to help you tonight. Afraid to ask for a little more?”

“Asking also means giving.”

“And is that _really_ such a bad thing?”

“Bargaining with you doesn’t usually bode well for _me._ ”

The man scoffs and grins in response. He then leans in to kiss her but Kim dodges his lips that land on her cheek instead. While he’s there, he leans closer and moves them to her ear, “I’ll play as fair as _you_ will, Kimberly. Next time I see you go looking for things you shouldn’t be, I won’t be as generous as I am right now.”

A gentle shove sees her free of his hold. Monty pins his hands on each side of him, grinning madly as he watches her back away from him. “ _Sweet dreams_.”

Those are his lasting words before Kim finally turns and walks towards the house, feeling his eyes upon her with every step she takes. She only takes a breath when she lets herself inside, locking the door behind her and resting her head against it. Only when she’s in the safety of her room does she pull out her device and contact Wade for the last time that night.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“More than enough. Kinda wish you didn’t tell me.” Wade makes a face at her while scratching the back of his head. She feels bad for dragging him into this, but knows it was the right person to tell.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry. Any updates?”

“Well, all of the information on the car is bogus. He used cash at the restaurant. Looks like he was well prepared once he figured out what we were trying to do.”

Monty wasn’t the plan that night, but considering their digital investigation on him kept turning up short, she figured it might be worth it to take advantage of his attendance anyway. After how the night ended, she surely wishes she hadn’t. Leaving it at that kiss would have been more than fine, and a perfect place to stop before they inevitably picked up again.

“Figured as much. No update on the castle security?”

“Not yet, but Kim... I _heard_ his warning. I mean, yeah the guy is bad but– what are we actually looking for here? Whatever you’ve got going on between you two...seems to have calmed him down a bit. Is getting under his skin and invading his privacy really the right way to go?”

“Probably not…but it keeps him at a safe distance. He ** _is_** still a villain, Wade. What I’m doing is nothing more than my job: _investigating_ him.”

“If you say so, Kim.” She walks over to the window, hearing the slight judgement in Wade’s voice as he warns her just as well, “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

She hopes so, too.


	8. Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is actually a rewrite of the original chapter that was meant to go a TOTALLY different way. But here we are, embracing this new path. Enjoy!!

A face unknown. Trapped beneath thick acrylic paint. Slashed heavy with intent and lack of care. That painting is all she sees. It stands as a doorway into the life of a man who is far more complex than she or anyone else had expected. It’s the key to a life now strangely entangled in her own. It’s what put them on this path together– isn’t it? Master of monkeys pushing aside all conquests to pursue a piece of that life stolen from him…and just when she thought he was more animal than man. Stepping into that castle for the last time confirmed just how untrue that was.

She wants to ask him. Wants to know everything there is to know. To connect the pieces in which he has seldom dropped over their time knowing one another. She partially thinks he might even answer her. That if he _would_ tell anyone, it would be the girl he’s shared a kiss with…but she isn’t so foolish. She is one of many, and more than anything she is just a prize to him. Nothing more.

Even if his kiss contradicts that.

Much like the first, she can’t get the second out of her head. It haunts her, finding its way into her dreams and even daydreams. The taste of him…the way his tongue collects her flavor as if it belonged to him…and those hands…no longer evidence to dangerous mutations, but instruments against her skin. Skilled and _wanting_. Kim wonders if she plagues his mind just as well. If while they are apart, he thinks of the next time they will share such intimacy again. She won’t forget his warning, of course… to stop her investigation on him. There’s unavoidable guilt in her chest as her only reason for heeding the warning is to simply keep him happy…and to keep the invitation open for them to pursue their mutual interest further.

But Kim won’t do that. She can’t allow the opportunity to slip. And if she were to pursue things further…she’d need to know just who it is she’s letting into her life. Farther than he’s already gotten, that is.

It’s precisely why she’s headed to England that evening. Only a couple of weeks had passed since Monty had given his warning, but an address was found and soon… answers would be as well. 

“Uh…Earth to Kim…you there?” A hand waves in front of her face, seeing Kim back her head up and shift her attention to Monique who stares at her with raised brows. “Girl, what’s going on? You’ve been out of it all day.”

“I know, sorry. Just…stressing about this trip.” Kim admits, trying to find the very fine line that is both honest and…safe.

“Really? Haven’t you been there like…a hundred times? Nah, girl. What’s the real reason? I know that look…it’s universal. You gonna make me say it?” There’s no hiding much from Monique, and that’s something Kim can appreciate about her. Keeping her level and honest. It’s what great friendships are based on, right?

The thought of Ron comes to mind and she realizes how awful that sounds. He knows nothing about that mission, about the castle, about her night out with Monkey Fist. Neither does Monique. So, what does that say about her?

“I’m just figuring things out right now. I know what you want to say and–.”

“That you’ve got boy problems? Cause uh…yeah. That sounds more like it.” She smiles at her, folding her arms over the small table where they both enjoy lunch.

“Honestly, that’s _simplifying_ it.” Kim smirks and folds her arms, “I’ll have to catch you up soon.”

“Isn’t that why we’re here now? Your flight isn’t until later– we’ve got all the time the world.”

Kim laughs at that, knowing her excuses and attempts at dodging it all don’t ever bode well for her. She’s the girl who can do…almost everything. Maintaining relationships proves to be the one exception. “I think I…want to figure things out first before I go disclosing anything. Besides…Ron doesn’t know at all and…I’m not ready for him to know.”

“Yeah, I get it. Don’t worry…when you do decide to tell your _best girl friend_ about your **_guy_** troubles, I’ll be here.”

It’s nice confirmation to know that she’s supported and has the space to personally handle things herself. That doesn’t mean a clock isn’t ticking, of course. Monique, and soon Ron, will both be waiting for answers. An explanation as to why she’s so…off. There’s always the option of creating a believable lie that allows her to satiate their interest while also protecting her secret…

But lying risks ruining everything…for everyone.

——

“Got a pin on him a few minutes ago at Marseille Provence Airport. Looks like he just arrived.”

Kim looks down at her device, a subtle relief at the news offered by Wade. She’s nearly at the castle now, having been flown out by helicopter from the airport. A quick method of escape…if she so happens to need it. The knots in her stomach get worse the closer she gets, especially then she spots the estate sitting lonesome in the distance. With a deep breath, she finally acknowledges Wade– summoning what courage she can.

“So that’s, what? A few hours out by helicopter? Plenty of time for me to go in and take a look around.” The very idea of Monty finding out just what it is she’s doing is no more worse than if he were to make his way over. She only has a small window, and even then she can’t guarantee that someway… _somehow_ …he wouldn’t catch her.

“It’s not too late to turn back, you know. Maybe this is just a mystery better left unsolved.”

“Have you ever known me to let things go unsolved?”

“Or let things go _at all?_ Guess Monkey Fist will learn that soon, if he hasn’t already.” Wade’s insinuation sees her eyes roll. She’s keen on keeping such thoughts of her future with the criminal at a safe distance, especially as she still has no idea what she’ll find in that castle. The helicopter begins to lower then, and Kim immediately takes note of the untamed and dying landscape surrounding the estate. It’s been left untouched for some time.

“You just worry about getting me in and out of here safely and _I’ll_ worry about Monkey Fist.” Kim thanks the pilot who is happy to come back and pick her up once she’s finished her task. Stepping down and onto the soft bed of grass, she feels an immediate chill travel the length of her spine.

“I feel like I was just dropped into a horror movie.” She starts towards it, placing the earpiece in and pocketing her communicator to stay in touch with Wade.

“This _was_ your idea, Kim. The family home of _Lord Monkey Fist_. You know, the monkey master? The guy who tried to off you and Ron multiple times? Who wants to be monkey king and rule the world? Were you expecting a sweet little cottage kept after by a sweet old lady?

“Okay, Wade. I get it. Still, you’ve _seen_ Drakken’s mom. I was expecting _anything_ after that.”

“Drakken and Monkey Fist may have similar goals, but you already know that they are very different people. _Crafted_ …differently.” Kim scoffs at that, quietly grateful for having Wade’s wisdom both in that moment and in her life overall.

“No kidding. I mean, imaging living in this place as a kid with no siblings? I can’t decide if that would have been the best or worst thing.” She reaches the front doors, impossibly large and glowering. She knows the doors won’t be unlocked, but it doesn’t stop her from reaching out to confirm such while twisting the cold and heavy knob.

“Well considering how he turned out…I think that answers the question for us.”

“Sure, but Bruce Wayne didn’t turn out so bad, did he?”

“You mean the guy who resorted to dressing up like a bat and running around beating up criminals?” Kim can’t help but laugh at that, pulling out a tool from her pocket and quietly working at unlocking the door.

“Okay okay, well when you say it like _that…_ ” the door pops open then, and there’s a brief moment where she considers turning around right then and there. But she’s already made it so far, and so what is a few more steps forward?

Kim pushes the door open carefully, peering into the house with air that is thick and stale. Beams of light outline the walls and and corners of the foyer. The colors of the room surprisingly warm and light rather than the dark and dreary aesthetic of Monty’s castle in the alps. Of course, she’d only ever been there after dark so she supposes she doesn’t have much to compare it to.

All furniture is covered with heavy white sheets, some with a thin layer of dust upon them. The castle is by no means outdated…but it’s been visibly untouched for a while. Kim doesn’t scare easily, but she can admit how eerie it is to be in a place that feels like it’s taking her back in time. It’s huge…and empty. Filled with memories she has yet to understand.

“So this was his childhood home?” She’s once again glad she’s got Wade on call, keeping her company while she carefully walks through the long corridors.

“Until he was 16. Well, 11 if you count him going to boarding school. After that he traveled so much, there’s not really much of a gap that would see him stay home for long. He officially closed its doors when he turned 18 after a legal battle. Historians urged him to open it to the public…to use it as a museum. There’s some…colorful words in his statement responding to the idea.” Kim scoffs at that.

“I bet. He obviously wanted to get away from this…not _celebrate_ it. The place is like a mausoleum, by the way.”

“Blueprints say it’s bigger than what you’re looking at. There’s two basement levels. I suggest you don’t go down there, we don’t know if he’s rigged this place.”

Kim comes to a sudden halt then, a thin metal wire suddenly coming into focus right before her eyes. “He has.” Kim retorts flatly, ducking beneath it and taking in a shaky breath. “I almost just tripped one.”

“If he went out of his way to put ones out that someone can _see_ …”

“Then there’s more that I can’t. I know. I’ll be quick.”

“I’m not so worried that he’ll show up more than that he knows you’re there. He won’t be happy, Kim.”

“Better to ask forgiveness than permission, right?”

“Not in my experience, just ask my _mom_.” They both share a nervous laugh before Kim wanders into one of the rooms.

“I looked again for more answers on the family history. Nothing new has popped up: just a bunch of headlines about his dad’s death. He was a geneticist, worked out of that very home.”

“Guess we could speculate what the basement levels were used for then. Scientists and secret labs don’t usually mix well.”

“Especially when there’s no public records of what work was being done in them. No mention of his mother, either. Just a name: Elise Marie Fiske.”

“A family with all of the money and resources in the world, but no information on them?”

“Well, no information on the _current_ generation. The Fiske name dates back centuries– and Monty’s got plenty of pages on his achievements both as Monty Fiske and…well…Monkey Fist as well.”

“Just not his parents. How does that even happen? They inherited all of this, didn’t they? Made a name for themselves? And then there’s just… _nothing._ No one is _that_ good at hiding.” And if they were– what would be the point? Monty made a career for himself that was the complete opposite of keeping a low profile.

“Maybe it wasn’t _their_ decision.”

An ominous thought, one Kim can’t completely rule out just yet. She walks into a larger room where the silhouette of a piano sits near the windows. It’s also covered, but Kim carefully peels it back to take a look. A beautiful grand piano sits dormant beneath, still polished and protected by the covering to retain its black coat.

“Thinking a string of notes might open up a secret passage?” Wade chimes in when he hears Kim press down on a key.

She doesn’t want to share with him what she’s actually thinking; that she’s imagining Monty playing it. Something tells her that most like everything else…he’d be good at it.

“Like that would be a surprise. Do those blueprints say anything about an office?” She moves on from the instrument, searching for a pair of stairs while also avoiding the subtle wires that stretch expertly through the home.

“A few of them. There’s one next to the master bedroom, that might be a good place to start.” Pulling out the communicator, she double checks the map offered, heading up the steps and taking note of the paintings removed from walls and stacked against them. She gets why there was interest in turning this place over to the public. The structure alone would work well for a museum, and she could only imagine the cost and history that comes with everything in this place.

She makes it to the master bedroom, surprised to see that both large doors had been removed from its hinges. The place had been taken apart, it would seem, but she doesn’t let that distract her. Especially when she approaches closer to the opening and sees the doorway completely lined with wires. The office nearby wasn’t as protected, but peering in she could see that it had been completely cleaned out.

“What do you suppose these wires do?” Kim asks Wade as she heads back to the master bedroom and observes what she can from the outside.

“Not sure. Only one way to find out…but the moment you trip one, Kim–.”

“Yeah. I know. I’ll only have so much time before I need to book it.” She’s fairly certain they won’t notify police, but there’s no knowing what will happen once they’e been set off. Tempted to go ahead and trigger it, she stops herself and takes a step back. “No. Maybe I can check other rooms first. I’d rather not ruin this chance…it could be the last.”

“Okay then, where to next?” While that question is asked, Kim spots another room with a large set of double doors at the end of the corridor. She’s not sure why, but she starts walking towards it. Something tells her that room once belonged to Monty. Her suspicions are confirmed when she opens the door and sees that the room inside had been tampered with.

There was once a wire at the door but it hangs from its position after already being set off. Stepping further into the room, she sees half open drawers, lifted covers upon furniture, and even a mattress that had been overturned.

“I think I found where Jindosh’s robot had broken in. Would’ve been nice to deal with _that_ version…they weren’t very careful at all.” Not only had Monty’s home been invaded, but his own room. One that didn’t seem to be as cleaned out as all the others. Books still sat upon the shelves, along with paintings and pictures. Kim spots one in particular on his desk and she almost laughs at the sight: Monty, clearly the age of her twin brothers, standing in fencing gear whilst holding a trophy. He’s just barely smiling.

“I don’t want to sound like a broken record…but that’s exactly why I didn’t want you to go through with this. Criminal or not…he’s set boundaries for a reason.”

Kim frowns, rubbing her temples as she stands in that room and finally lets it all…hit her. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be here.” It’s tough to admit, but she need not look much farther to know that something happened within these walls that the man holds close to the chest. Those questions won’t be answered by sneaking around his back.

“Wait…really? You’re _actually_ going to listen?” She can’t decide if his tone of surprise is that of sarcasm or not. Regardless, she takes a breath and rounds out of the room feeling a small rush of adrenaline as she realizes she’s wants to be nowhere near this place any longer.

“Ha- _ha_ , Wade. Could you let Roger know to make his way back? I’ll be right- AH!”

A wire missed.

Kim feels the subtle bump of her shoulders against it, and flinches as it makes a snapping sound while quickly retracting. She takes a step back but isn’t quick enough when suddenly the side of her neck is pricked with a subtle pain. Fear floods her then, and her hand reaches up to feel the small dart sticking into it.

“Kim! Are you okay? What happened?” Wade could be beard in her ear but as she observe the culprit now in her fingertips, her vision slides out of focus. “Kim?!”

The rest of her limbs grow numb, soon unable to keep her on her two feet as she sinks to her knees and falls to the floor. Wade can be heard still, and she wants nothing more than to respond to him, but when her lips part no sound comes out. Her body freezes completely before her eyes shut and force her into an unconscious state.

—-

She hears…music.

A piano.

An incredibly solemn but…familiar tune. Kim is only able to open her eyes when her body finally allows it. Green irises landed upon the carpeting first, seeing the room around her ignited in light. She recognizes it almost instantly, before her gaze shifts to the very piano and the man playing it. She’s still in his house, rendered completely useless…and Monty sits with his back towards her, focusing on the keyboard before him.

Kim’s not quite sure what to feel first amongst the heavy choices of fear and helplessness. That dart had paralyzed her and knocked her out– clearly long enough for the man to get where he is now. The pilot? Wade? Surely one of them is seeing that there is help sent her way. Surely she is not trapped here alone…with _him_.

The music stops then. And Kim who lays motionless on the floor watches as he sits unmoving. It terrifies her to think what he will do…what he will _say_ to her. It’s her worst nightmare come to life. Serves her right…Monty _would_ find her here…even if she had finally come to her senses.

“It needs to be tuned.” He speaks then, and she knows that the words are directed to her. Knows that the man knows she’s listening. He rises then, carefully covering the keys before placing the top back down with a calmness that only terrifies her further. His hands settle upon the edge then, as if to admire the instrument beneath them.

His silence kills her.

The glare he then turns his head to give her is _worse_.

The man walks over to her then, seeing her heart rate spike as not even her fingertips will budge.

He kneels down before her, his hand moving to cup her cheek. He feels warm, and the gesture is nearly welcome. Even as it slides down to collect her jaw- his touch staying gentle for now.

“You...have made me **_very_** angry, Kimberly.”

Her eyes widen at that, quick to close when his thumb suddenly pushes upon her upper lip, dragging hard over its curve before slipping beneath it to settle upon her canine. Not even her jaw will move whilst he invades her mouth. All she can do is let out a soft sound that proves her discomfort while looking up into his eyes; she shares with him a silent plea.

Whether he reads it or not he finally removes his thumb and lets his had sit upon the side of her neck. “The next time I thought I would see you…I hoped might be under different circumstances. There’s still so much of you I have _yet_ to taste.”

Fingers trace down her jugular, and Kim wishes that was the circumstance just as well. But Monty pulls his hand away and sets his jaw. He confirms for her that what could have have been their next meeting…is now _off_ the table.

“But you just had to ruin that, didn’t you? You _had_ to disobey me. You had to make me come to the one **_place_** I hate most on this earth.”

Kim sees the man rise, stepping around her where she can’t see and listening to him speak.

“I hate it here, Kimberly. I hated it when I left. I hated it when that _idiot_ sent his robot to break in. And I hate it now…as _you’ve_ dragged me back here.”

She wants to apologize. To explain to that she realized her wrongdoing. That she regrets coming here….regrets making him face whatever past is here again. But all she can do is look at that piano. All she can do is lay there and wait to find control again. And to listen to him…as she imagines he will have much to say.

“Well? I’m assuming you’re disappointed. I stripped this place before anyone could think to get their hands on it. Even if you _did_ make it into the deepest depths …you’d find nothing more than dust. Do you get it yet, Kim?” Monty comes into view again, walking near the piano before coming to a halt and turning to stare at her. “Everything you’re looking for lives right here.”

He sticks a finger to his head to make his point. His eyes are void of any warmth, and filled with a darkness she’d not yet seen before.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was my punishment. That this was you serving your justice for what I’ve done. But I _know_ you, Kim. I know you don’t have it in you to hurt me.” He walks back up to her, crouching down and tilting his head to the side, “but you are doing a damn fine job of trying.”

Finally, out of sheer desperation, she’s able to utter out one word, “Monty…” If only she could explain. If she could just show him that she knows this was all a mistake. Her fingers twitch and she’s somewhat grateful that the drug is wearing off. Then again…who knows what the man has in store for her from now until the point of her recovery.

It’s as if he reads her mind in that moment, narrowing his eyes and letting out a soft sigh. “Don’t worry. Your travel has been arranged.” He pulls out her communicator from his pocket, waving it in front of her. “Your friend has the green light to send for help if you’re not airborne in the next ten minutes. Plenty of time for us to finish our chat.”

That worries her. Did Wade trust Monty enough to believe he would keep his word?

“I wasn’t…” she struggles to find the words…let alone form them, “I wasn’t going…to take…”

“Take anything? Look around you, my dear. What is there for you _to_ take? There’s nothing here for you. Nothing here for _me_. There never **_was_**. So…why are either of us here?”

He doesn’t give her the time to answer…not that she’d be physically able to give him one.

“It doesn’t matter. You went behind my _back_. Though I suppose that’s really my fault, isn’t it? I let you think you ** _could_**.”

Monty’s on his feet again, folding his hands behind his back and rolling his tongue at the inside of his cheek. “You’re curious, Kimberly. I understand that. You want to know what no one else does. But information comes at a price…and you have _yet_ to pay up. That’s the way it works. You give something to me…and _I_ give something to **_you._** ”

He steps away again, turning and staring at the room before him. “I wonder what you’d think if you knew the truth.” His voice is softer when he speaks those words…thick with genuine curiosity. “No, I understand now. I know _exactly_ what you’d think. I know exactly what you’d want to _do_.” To no surprise, that tone doesn’t last and Monty slips in to a familiar growl.

“You’ll want to fix me. **_Save_** me. Because you’re Kim Possible…and that’s just what you **_do_**.” Kim’s heart sinks at that, seeing just how real his warning had been before. Knowing now that the information she was searching for was not just valuable, but painful to the man in front of her. And despite the many times in which he has made her suffer, she doesn’t feel at all that he deserves this. She can practically hear Ron yelling at her for that thought alone.

“Well, Kim…I’m going to tell you something. Then perhaps your trip here will not have been a complete waste of time.” He approaches with determination set in his step. Kneeling to the floor near to her, his hand reaches for her throat and it completely bewilders her that his fingers apply no harmful pressure. Lowering his head, Monty keeps her focus, forcing her to look into eyes that could keep her frozen there more than any drug could.

“I can’t be **_fixed_**. And you are decades _late_ to save me.”

No… _no_. That isn’t what she wants. That’s not why she’s there. If she could speak…if she could move…she could tell him that. She could tell him that all of this? It was wrong…it was a misunderstanding. Kim wants to know him. Wants to know why Monty painted over that painting. She wants to know why he went through such lengths to steal back a necklace from the past…a past he’s successfully erased from the rest of the world. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen from him. _More_ than the man she knew as Monkey Fist.

He picks her up then while she’s lost in thought. “Looks like our time is up.” She’s settled against his chest, and realizes now that this moment is ending. That if he _is_ keeping his word, they will be parting from each other on a less than favorable note.

“Monty…please…” her fingers can only attempt their grip at the front of his coat, failing as both her arms and hands deny her the will still. It’s all she can do to let him carry her back through the house and out the front door. Her head rests against his shoulder while her eyes survey the front of the house now blanketed by the night. She’d been out for a while… _that_ much was clear.

“Enough, Kimberly.” It sounds worse when the anger can’t be heard. When his touch…his voice…all of it is _restrained_. Whether that’s for her benefit or not, she can’t be certain. All she knows is that she’s crossed a line…one she previously justified, and while he won’t follow through on all of the things he could do to her, sending her off with the knowledge that she betrayed him will surely be punishment enough.

Monty carries her to the helicopter that had started up the moment they stepped outside. He sets her down on her feet but keeps holding her up with his arm around her middle as he opens the door. She sees the pilot waiting inside, eyes filled with worry as she is carefully deposited into the seat.

“Your patience is appreciated. You can let the boy-genius know you’re on your way.” Monty tosses the pilot her communicator, before his hands work to strap her in. Emerald eyes look to him heavy with concern, worried that she’s made a grave mistake that will change everything. Finally when he finishes, his hands pin to the seat on each side of her, leaning in and giving her one last hard look.

There’s a brief moment she thinks he might kiss her. Might reassure her that despise this mistake, despite the line crossed, there was still room for forgiveness.

No such luck.

“Do ** _not_** come back here.”

A final warning. One she intends to acknowledge this time.


	9. For Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***WARNING***  
> This chapter does have a bit of violence in it (nothing gory or major, but I always like to warn just incase)
> 
> Y'all I can't even believe still that there was precious fanart made for this story. The very lovely LaVidaMochaIV drew this based on chapter 3: 
> 
> https://twitter.com/VincentMarieArt/status/1304772351654010881
> 
> Please please please go and support their art!!! Their style is just so dope. 
> 
> Thank you again!!!

He could kill her.

 _Should_ have. As the girl has wandered far too close this time. He wonders just who gave her the right to be so bold– to cross lines with no fear of any consequences. But he _knows_ the answer to that. It was him. _He’d_ been too easy on her. Too lenient. And now there he was, watching that helicopter rise and take her away. Even through his anger there’s a small part of him that wishes he’d not seen her off so soon. Monty had been waiting the previous weeks for another call, another excuse for them to see each other. He supposes this could have been that chance…but nothing could be resolved from this. Not right now. Not while he turns to face the estate with blood boiling beneath his skin.

“ ** _Damn_** you, Kim.”

He heads back to the house and makes quick work of turning off the lights and exiting before any memories could slip out of the cage he’s kept them in. A hard pull sees the front door shut, and a key is retrieved from his pocket to lock it back in place. Monty stands there for a long moment, black hair brushing against the wooden doors as he contemplates for the umpteenth time of burning the whole place to the ground.

Just as soon as the temptation comes, it goes. Burning it to ash will take what memories he has left of his mother and destroy them forever. Or at least, that is what he _fears_. The bad suffocates the good moments within this place... but those few good moments will keep him grounded just as they had before.

For now.

——

**_25 Years Ago_ **

“I heard them again.”

Cerulean eyes shift to the woman who’s focus is just nearly unwavering as she moves the brush expertly over the canvas before her. The jumpsuit she wears is stained with old and new paint, as well as the soft skin poking out at her forearms and collarbone. Dark brown hair is pulled up lazily, but gives way to beautiful blue eyes that grant him a gentle look.

“Still?” She frowns and lowers the brush, observing the boy who wanders around the study and peeks at the many frames and canvases still a work in progress. “I thought they had worked out the sound-proofing.”

“Closing the vents helped the last time.” He suggests, brows raising with hope as he peers over at her.

“It gets far too cold at night, Mont’. I won’t have you freezing.”

“I’d rather freeze than listen to them _again_. They’re in **_pain_** , mother. Don’t you hear them?” The look on her face answers his question.

“I think I hear them even when they don’t make a peep. Come here, darling.” Her hand extends out to him, and the boy breathes in deep. He walks over to his mother then, taking her hand and letting her pull him close so that they can both look upon her painting. “What do you think?”

Monty grins, “A suit, mother? Really?”

“What? Can’t a monkey dress up once and a while? Have a night out on the town?” She squeezes him close, pulling a giggle out of him while his shoulders scrunch and he continues to take in the art before him.

“It’s a monkey. Where’s it going to go in _that?_ The opera?”

“Oh, the opera is not a bad idea at all. I was thinking maybe...he’s meeting an old _flame_.”

“Gross.”

His mother laughs, letting him pry out of her arms to look upon the nearby tubes of paint. He picks up a red colored one, observing the crinkled end of it with curious fingers. “Is he ...free? At least?”

“Free.” She confirms. “And untouchable.”

Monty nods his head before turning back to face her.

“You’re running out of paint.” He knows the question needs to be worded perfectly here. That any show of over-eagerness might see his plan fail. “Perhaps you should take a trip to the shops.”

_And bring me._

But he doesn’t need to utter those words. They are very clear within his gaze, and he can see by the way his mother’s shoulders drop that his suggestion would not be seen through.

“Ah…I’ll inform Margaret. I believe she’ll be heading into town later anyway.”

Monty makes a face at that, lips twisting as he steps back up to her, black brows pushing together. “We aren’t _incapable_ , mother. Why can’t we simply go ourselves?”

“Because we’ve hired people to complete such tasks, Monty. What about that are you struggling to grasp?” That voice sees his heart sink to his stomach. Mustering what courage and composure he can, he turns to see the man standing tall in the doorframe. His lab coat sits folded over his arm with glasses tucked into the pocket of his button down shirt. A look that usually confirms his work is finished for the day.

“Nothing. I was just bored.” A partial lie, but one that should satiate his father enough.

“There are children who have nothing and make do with it. _You_ have everything. I’m not raising you to be ungrateful.” He knows better than to argue that. To point out that he _is_ grateful for the material possessions he and his family have…but what he and his mother are missing is far more precious than anything money could buy them.

So he simply bows his head and keeps his mouth shut. Even his mother knows not to argue on his behalf. They’ve tried before…it never ends well.

“We have guests coming tonight.” His father’s attention turns to his mother then, seeing him step further into the studio and round the canvas to get a look at the painting. The lack of an attempt to hide his sneer is obvious. “Another one? You realize I have to work with these things every day, yes? I’d rather not have to subject myself the few moments I’m not working.”

“Don’t worry, dear. It’s not leaving this room.” Monty watches his father’s hand clamp down on the back of her neck, seeing her flinch before expertly brushing it off and diverting the conversation. “Dinner guests?”

“Yes. Andrey Kamolov and his wife.”

“You’d mentioned him before– the geneticist from Saint Petersburg?” Monty turns his back at that, going back to looking at the partially-finished works of art that litter the room. He has no interest in another one of those _doctors_ coming by.

“Indeed. He’s interested in my progress…wants to get a look at the labs.” A pause is heard then, before he speaks again, “If you’re still bored, Monty…maybe you’ll finally join us. Perhaps once you see that those things you’re hearing are indeed animals, you’ll learn to ignore it. Just like ** _I_** do.”

——

**_The Present_ **

A month passes.

Kim can’t be bothered by the small party at her back, focused only on the dark horizon as she peers out the glass doors from the living room. She’s distracted. Unable to ignore the fear settled deep in her chest and sinking downwards. No amount of company or drinks or food could tear her away from it. And so she will happily remain in her position, looking to the forest and holding her arms over her chest. Monkey Fist plagues her mind still. Kim is certain that the monkey master now loathes her after what she had done. A ridiculous concept if said out loud considering he was the villain and she was the so called… _hero_.

A hero who broke into the home of a man she’s yet to understand her feelings for. A man who set his boundary clearly.

“Kimmie! There you are. A special guest just arrived– figured you might want to greet them.” She fights the urge to roll her eyes at her father’s exaggerated announcement. There goes her attempt at withdrawing for the evening and torturing herself in her own head. No matter, she supposes she can pretend to appear a little happier with her father who’s celebrating the start of a new lab team put together at work. With a sigh, she drops her arms and turns towards his voice.

“Oh, Ron changed his mind then?” But her eyes don’t land on Ron. They land on a ghost. A figment of her imagination, surely. For the man standing in her living room couldn’t possibly be there.

“I was thrilled to hear that working with you had turned over a new leaf for Mr. Fiske.” His hand clamps down on the man’s shoulder, confirming that what she’s seeing is indeed very real.

Monty smirks, standing with his hands folded at his back while he shifts his gaze to her father who furthers his praise for him. “Hey, the team and I can’t thank you enough for that donation. You’re more than welcome to stop by the labs whenever you want. Just ah…without stealing a rocket this time.”

Kim is mortified. Struggling to understand exactly what’s happening in front of her. Monty scoffs and nods his head, “Of course. I’m eager to leave that all in the past.”

The look he flashes her at those words sends her stomach into knots. Her own hands come together nervously, remembering the last time she was able to look into those eyes. Eyes that promised to make good on the idle threat made to her. And here he was– ready to collect his debt. To back her into a corner as all of her loved ones were present in this house– none of them having any idea just what her history was with this man.

“Well, glad to hear it. Help yourself– and uh, well, I’ll let you guys catch up.” He gives Monty one more pat on the shoulder before he turns and leaves them. She’s not sure she’s taken one breath through that whole moment. Kim’s eyes watch in fear as the man before her waits until her father is far enough to take a step closer.

“What…are you doing here…” It’s the only words she can get out amongst the swarm of thoughts dizzying her.

“I was invited.” He answers simply, lowering his voice and setting his jaw as he looks upon her. “You see, it’s just as easy to slither my way into _your_ home. A wire transfer. A story perhaps a _little_ exaggerated…and here I am.”

“You did all of this just to teach me a lesson?”

“Does that surprise you? Ah, James?” He turns then, lifting his finger as if there’s something he had forgotten. Kim watches in horror as her dad turns back with a grin, meeting Monty in the middle.

Monty grins wide then, and in one swift moment his hands grip onto her father’s head and twists violently. A snap is heard, and sees his body fall lifeless to the floor. Kim’s eyes go wide and her first instinct is to scream– but as much as she tries to…nothing comes out. Her hands move to her throat, desperate to find her voice again– especially as she looks back to Monty who now stands gripping a sword. That claymore. Smiling at her before he turns to the rest of the room and raises the blade…

The nightmare stops before it can play out any further, seeing Kim shoot up to a sitting position in her bed whilst covered in sweat. She pants as if just learning to breathe again, placing a hand on her chest and feeling the aching thud of her fast-paced heart. Afraid to close her eyes again for fear of seeing those images surely fresh in her mind still, she stares at the dark room around her. The clock showing 4AM. There’s not even a hint of the sunrise on the horizon just yet.

There’s no way she’ll chance going back to bed. Immediately she throws the covers off of her and dresses into a pair of shorts and sneakers. A long morning run might help unwind her and clear her head. And it…sort of does. It exhausts her enough that the tension strung within her is able to relax a bit. Still, she can’t shake that dream…and the fact that a month later he continues to haunt her.

An hour passes and Kim brings her run to an end at the nearby park. The sun is just breaking at the horizon, and other early birds are seen starting their morning routines as well. She finds a bench to sit down at, resting her shoulders at its back and taking in a deep breath.

“You’re up early. Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”

“Aren’t you?” She looks down at her communicator then, seeing Wade on the screen looking just as exhausted. They’re meant to be on a spring break, but it appears neither of them are finding it easy to just…relax. “I had another nightmare.” She admits, sounding completely defeated and feeling that way as well.

“Again?” He doesn’t say it as if he’s surprised…but more so upset on her behalf. “It’s been a month, Kim.”

“Yeah well, what can I say? He left an impression.” An impression left when she was completely paralyzed and unable to defend herself verbally or physically. A fear Kim didn’t realize she had until living it.

“Is calling him still off the table?”

“And what would I say that isn’t too late at this point? If there was ever a window to explain or apologize…I’m sure it’s ended by now.”

“You can’t know that for sure. He’s been quiet since then…and even before that. No criminal activity on his side…well, none that we know of. But still, maybe he’s open to it. Sounds like _you_ might have made an impression, too.”

She frowns at the thought. _‘Turned over a new leaf’_? Doubtful. But that doesn’t mean Wade doesn’t have a point. There’s a good chance Monty would be willing to hear her out. To allow her to make things right or to at least _try_ to.

“Looks like you’re considering it. Want me to send you his info?”

“No, thanks Wade. I think this is something I need to do in person.”

“Oh right, cause he might be more forgiving if there’s a chance of a kiss, right?” Kim flushes and shakes her head. It’s not entirely untrue, but she’d also consider herself lucky if she was able to get that chance again.

“A flight would be nice, Wade.”

——

She’ll spend the next few days in Paris, staying far enough away incase things don’t go well…or if she backs out of the plan completely. There was even a moment before boarding the plane that Kim was tempted to turn around and to forget the idea completely. But she’s ignored it long enough, and if she doesn’t find closure soon she doubts those nightmares and the guilt weighing heavy inside of her will ever go away.

And so she finds herself waking up in her hotel room the next morning after having arrived late the night before. Strong rays help pull her out of bed, and despite being on the threshold of spring, the air is still far cooler than she’d like. A part of her is tempted to contact Pierre, to both check in on him and perhaps get help on building some confidence on asking forgiveness from a man he seems to have known for quite some time. But she decides against it for now. She needs to rip the bandaid off.

Kim takes an early train after spending far too long showering and getting ready. Nerves see her skipping breakfast and tracing the lines of a water bottle purchased on the ride over. She starts to regret not bringing her communicator, wishing she could have at least spoken to Wade one last time before making the trek up to that castle. But she intentionally left it behind at the hotel, hoping that decision would build back just a little of the trust lost. It’s mid-afternoon when she arrives in the town near his home. Her stomach twists further when she gets into a taxi to complete the last part of her journey.

Never in a hundred years would she have ever guessed she’d be doing this. Going out of her way to seek out Monkey Fist, to apologize to him…and make things right. After everything he’d ever done…does he really deserve such?

She won’t allow herself to even ask that question. Of course he deserves it. Who would Kim be if she left no room for second chances?

They arrive at a gate then, and Kim freezes up when she hears Bates’ voice sound on the intercom. The driver had lowered the window for her, allowing her to announce her presence. “Hey Bates…it’s Kim. Possible. I was…hoping I could speak with Monty…if he’s around.” She can feel her heart pounding in her ears and her palms heating against one another.

There’s an uncomfortably long pause.

“Ah sure, dear. Have your driver pull forward.” There’s some relief with that, but along with it comes the twice the amount of anxiety as the taxi takes her up a long winding road until finally they are stopped in front of the two large doors where Bates awaits her. She thanks the driver and allows Bates to help her out of the car– finding it particularly difficult to read the look on his face.

“Welcome back, Miss Possible. I was unaware you and Lord Fist had any withstanding business.”

“Well, we don’t…exactly. This is more of a personal call.” Kim admits, shifting her gaze to the door left ajar behind him. “Does he…know I’m here?” She’d rather not drop in on him completely out of left field. Deep down she knows the answer is ‘yes’, but is hoping whatever Bates offers in terms of a reaction might give her an idea of what she’s walking into.

“He does indeed. He’s out back…I’ll take you to him.” Kim nods and follows the man into the castle.

It amazes her how different it appears in the day and without mountains of snow to cover everything. The halls are warm with sunlight and the greenery beginning to come back to life. She’s tempted to comment on it but, her mind is fixated on trying to prepare for what she will say to him. It does worry her that she’s being lead back to that room where the painting sits, but she refuses to look at it. They both walk up to the large windows that line the bottom of the room. She hadn’t realized before that they were doors to the back gardens– now far more obvious to see now.

A wide set of stone stairs lead down to a snowy stretch of space before generous gardens. In the distance she can distinguish small moving figures as monkeys who are clearly enjoying their time in the outdoors. And at the bottom of the steps, she sees him. Monty. His back faces them, and he stands with his arms folded– clearly interested in supervising his ninjas while one of them, a smaller one, sits upon his shoulders. Bates moves to open the door but Kim gently stops his hand before he’s successful.

“If you don’t mind…I can take it from here.” She gives him a weak smile, seeing him nod his head and share one with her back before leaving her be.

Kim inhales a shaky breath.

She opens the door and is met with a crisp air the mountains never fail to give her. She can hear the hooting and chattering of the monkeys in the distance, and somehow it offers Kim some comfort. Without having even taken the first step down, his voice rings out to her.

“Still full of surprises, I see.” He turns his shoulders to look at her then, and Kim is relieved to see his eyes are absent of any anger or hatred. They _do_ look tired. “I was beginning to think I’d scared you off for good.”

His attention is stolen then when the monkey upon him attempts to get down. Kim takes his words as a green light to move forward, watching as the man carefully helps the monkey make its way down to his feet. When she approaches she can see the bandages upon its arms, clearly injured and labored as it starts off slowly to join the others. It doesn’t get far before turning back and tugging at Monty’s ankle.

“No, no, Charlie. You’ll be just fine. Go on, then.” Kim reaches him finally, eager to jump right into the very point of it all and to even address his previous words. Neither of which are able to come out as she watches this Charlie reluctantly leave Monty’s foot and successfully join the others.

“What happened to him?”

“He’s new. I got word of a small-time zoo who _somehow_ managed to keep him alive despite the poor treatment and funding of their… _facilities_. He’s warmed up to _me_ but…he’s never really had the chance to be around others of his kind before.”

Her brows knit with concern, trying not to make herself feel worse when she’s painfully reminded that there is very much a real side of Monty that is genuinely… _good_. And as much as she’s interested in learning more about what he’s just offered her, she can’t in good conscious ignore the reason leading her to him.

“Monty…” His eyes move to her own and she can see that he is giving her his undivided attention. That he’s allowing her to say whatever it is that she needs to. “I…I’m so sorry for what I did. I realized my mistake early on. I was leaving when I tripped that wire…”

He looks away from her then, and Kim fears that perhaps he won’t be as forgiving as she initially hoped.

“You were right. It’s none of my business. And the excuses I made for myself…they aren’t justified. And I’m sorry it took a month for you to hear this…but you were so angry with me, Monty. I didn’t even know how to give you the apology you deserved, or if you even wanted one. I _still_ don’t know.” Kim holds her arms as a whip of wind adds a tremble to those lasting words.

A brief moment of silence follows, and Kim couldn’t be more grateful that he doesn’t make her suffer for long.

“This isn’t a bad start.” Monty confirms then, turning fully to face her. “I’ve had quite some timeto think about it, Kimberly. About _why_ you’re so interested in my history. Perhaps you can confirm for me whether or not my conclusion aligns with your _own_.” He takes a step closer to her, and the heat of his presence almost brings her some warmth amongst the chilled air.

She fears what he might say and what his thoughts have bundled into. It is somewhat nice to know that he’d been thinking about it. That like her, his mind hasn’t quite wandered away from… _them_.

“I think you’re trying to find reason. **_Validation_**. Something to defend what you’ve done with me. Funny, that it isn’t _much_ – is it? A few harmless kisses…” he almost smirks at that, but retains his composure, “but they’re a little more than that, aren’t they? Or maybe you want them to be more. I know ** _I_** do.” Kim swallows hard at that, finding it difficult to focus when his eyes glance at her lips. “But _I_ am Monkey Fist. And **_you_** are Kim Possible. It doesn’t look good for your image at all, does it? How could you _possibly_ explain it? Unless you uncovered a ‘tragic backstory’ that might somehow redeem me in the eyes of all who are watching.”

Kim almost scoffs at that, “ _Is_ it tragic?”

“Debatable.”

“Well. You’re close… _sort of_. Monty…I couldn’t care less about what the world thinks of me. I _know_ who I am and if I ever worried about everyone else’s perception, I’d go crazy. I… _do_ want more. But more means trusting you. And trusting you can’t come without _knowing_ you.”

“You _do_ you know me, Kim.”

“No, I _don’t_. You spent months crafting this elaborate plan to get back a necklace that belonged to your _mother_. That **_blindsided_** me. I thought I knew _exactly_ who you were but now more than ever I realize I’ve done nothing more than scratch the surface.”

“Sounds like you’re more attracted to the idea of breaking me down, than you are of _me_.”

She grimaces at that observation, shaking her head. “Only because I thought it would make this okay. I thought it would be the reason I needed to accept what I’ve done…and…what I want to do.”

“And what about now?”

“Now?” She chews on her lip, wishing he would just hold her already. He’s more than close enough, and she gets the feeling he’s wanting it just as much as she is. But it seems no reward will come without an answer. “I can…accept what I _do_ know… for _now_. If it means seeing you again. If it means I’m not… hurting you.”

Monty’s brows furrow slightly at that…as if surprised by her admission. Blue eyes remain intense as they search her own, as if trying to find a fault within her words. But before he can respond, Kim gives in to a shiver she’d been trying to hold off. “Can we _please_ go inside?”

The man smirks and looks her up and down. “What possessed you to show up without a coat?”

“I assumed you’d be making use of the _twenty_ fireplaces you have.” Her exaggeration earns her a chuckle, and finally an arm that comes around her back with a warm hand rubbing over her forearm.

“Some tea will warm you up.”

——

“Better?”

Kim relaxes into the sofa, watching as Monty tosses in the last block of wood atop the building fire. There’s still a tremble in her shoulders, but the warmth could be felt even from where she sits. She nods her head as he comes near, taking a seat at her side and leaning forward to collect his cup of tea. He leans back and throws his arm over the sofa, resting the cup on his thigh while he studies her quietly.

She rests her head against the inside of his arm, fingers tracing over the mouth of her cup, “Have you decided if you forgive me yet?”

It’s decided that if anything is heating her up in that room, it’s the smile he grants her when paired with his answer, “Heh. Are you getting the impression that I _haven’t?_ ”

“Just figured you’d have kissed me by now if you had.” And that is what she wants, after all. She wants to kiss him again. To taste his lips and feel his hands grip onto her as if she may turn to sand against him.

She knows he wants it, too. For why else would his eyes continue to linger upon her as if she were his dinner?

“Fear not, Kimberly. I’ll happily oblige us both. But considering we’ve got a _month’s_ worth to make up for, I figured it’s best to let you _breathe_ for now.”

“Oh? Is _that_ your logic?”

“If you see a flaw, you’re more than welcome to change course.” His knee nudges her own, and for a moment Kim is tempted to take up that offer. To grab his jaw and do them both the favor. Before she can, her eyes catch on the painting behind him sitting above the mantel. The very painting burned into her memory. And before she can tear her gaze away from it in time, Monty catches on and looks behind him to see what’s taken her interest.

He scoffs.

“That’s what started this, _isn’t it?_ ” He connects the dots fast, and Kim feels her mouth go dry when he looks back at her with a look of annoyance in his eyes. “Did you think I was crazy?” It does worry her slightly that his question sounds serious, but she goes the route of assuming he is merely teasing.

“If I thought that, don’t you think I’d have picked out more obvious red flags?” Kim nudges his knee back as if to remind him of the two extra hands he has attached to him. Monty doesn’t answer, but he does take one more sip of his tea before setting it down on the coffee table and looking back to the portrait.

He’s debating something then. She can sense it within his silence.

“That portrait is the only image left of both my mother and I.”

Kim stiffens at the information suddenly given to her. She’s not quite sure if she’s more surprised at the content itself or that he’s shared it. But she won’t dare to risk ruining this and decides to bite her tongue…hoping he might offer more.

And he does.

“You see...my mother left when I was eight years old. She was escaping **_him_**.” He points to the man who’s face is hidden by the black paint covering it. “He wasn’t…particularly happy that one of his _belongings_ had escaped him and so whether he was punishing me or _her_ for it...he decided to destroy all evidence of her. Clothes, books…photos.”

Kim can’t take her eyes off of him. She’s completely mesmerized by what he’s saying, and just as well…quietly breaking as the pieces begin to come together in her head. Monty’s tongue presses at the inside of his cheek, and a sigh is forced from his lips before he clears his throat and turns his head back to look at her.

“The only thing that survived was _that_. And if there is one person in this world that doesn’t deserve to be remembered...it’s _him_.” He scoffs again, looking back to the painting while he makes a straining fist over his lap. “I made sure of that.”

She’s overwhelmed with the hundreds of questions now surfacing in her mind. His father painted as some faceless monster, and his very clear love for his mother who had left him early in his life. That alone is enough of an answer as to why he no longer wanted to return to that home…not that he needed to give her one in the first place.

Still…she appreciates it, and while she’s tempted to know more and to breathe life into those many questions birthed in her brain, she places her own cup down and reaches out her hand to gently guide his jaw back to face her. “She’s beautiful.”

Kim’s eyes shift to the painting and then back to him, keeping her fingers upon him while she studies the two subjects. “You definitely have her eyes. I bet all she had to do was give you a look if you were ever misbehaving.”

“Me? _Misbehaving?_ ” It’s working. He’s a little more distracted…and that hand on his lap eases out of that fist.

“And maybe your nose…” she turns his head to the side to see a bit of his profile, “ _before_ you broke it.”

Monty’s hand reaches up to take hers then, moving it away and settling the both of them over her own thigh.

“I think if you saw my father you’d know exactly who’s looks I inherited.”

Kim won’t argue him on it. She knows it’s a path she’s not ready to go down just yet, and considering there’s a very obvious reaction when on the topic of his family, she elects to let it go. That hand he’s brought down is now sliding up his wrist, fingers pushing into the hair over it and gently massaging the roots.

“Have I been patient enough, yet?” She peers up into his eyes, hoping he won’t allow her to endure such torture any longer. The hand she’s focused on slides to her hip then, and she knows she’s finally played the right cards.

Monty leans in close, resting his forehead to her own and dragging out the torturous moment as far as he can before giving in.

“ _Impressively_ so.”


	10. Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think this story is turning into a History of Monkey Fist lmao but tbh I've kept head canons for his past/history in my head for too long and figured sharing it in bits here might be the best way to get it out (though I did at one point consider a totally separate story). Anyway, thanks to all of those who are following/reading/reviewing this. It's definitely inspired me a lot and also scared me a bit as I don't want to now go disappointing anyone lmao
> 
> alright, enjoy y'all!!!

**_25 Years Ago_ **

“Monty, hands to yourself, please.”

He hides the roll of his eyes at his father’s request, retracting his hand that traced the white wall leading them through a maze beneath the house. He follows the man and his doctor friend who joined them for dinner. Monty’s mother occupies the guest’s wife back in their dining room where he would have liked to remain. But requesting such would have proved pointless. There was no getting out of this now, and perhaps there was a curiosity waiting to be satiated. Perhaps what he and his mother knew as helpless animals trapped beneath their home were actually these disgusting monsters his father spoke of them as.

Monty is filled with guilt at that thought. In his heart he knows that isn’t the truth. Even the very people who still walk around these halls in lab coats and suits know that isn’t the truth. The sounds he hears don’t come from monsters. They happen _because_ of a monster.

“You’re certain the boy should be down here, Fiske? I’d not let my girls anywhere near my labs.”

“Mm, Monty can handle it. Besides, this all goes to him when I’m gone. The sooner he understands what carrying on this legacy means, the better.”

But Monty is too distracted to hear their conversation, peering into glass rooms where metal tables and computers stand idle. No sign of the ‘monsters’ yet. However the mere sight of the labs and the people working within them are enough to unsettle him.

He follows the two men into a room and finally they arrive at their destination. It surprises Monty that there’s no sound despite the wall of cages that can be seen from around the corner. Breaking off from them, he wanders over and turns to see the long stretch of cages on each side. Still no sound to be heard and so the boy further investigates. When he carefully steps up to the cages, he finally understands why.

_They’re…sleeping?_

Or **_dead_**.

He’s not quite sure, as the limbs are splayed out and its chest is barely moving. Monty swallows hard, moving to the next row and finding the same thing. All of them look lifeless. He’s not sure whether or not that brings him any comfort. Finally when he nears the end of the first wall, he comes across one that appears to be awake. It’s tucked in the back corner, curled up and peering at him from beneath its arms. It looks… scared.

Monty looks over his shoulder then, making sure his father was preoccupied before moving closer to the cage. It upsets him that the monkey is afraid of him. That the monkey thinks _he_ will hurt it. If only it knew that just floors above there were two people who cared very much about it, and the rest of them in here. He wonders what it would think of his mother’s paintings, as most of their subjects are the simian beings themselves.

“Hi.” He’s standing on his toes, trying to get a better look and allowing the monkey to see him better as well. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He places a hand upon the front of the cage, his finger poking through and curling as if to beckon the being closer.

“What did I say about keeping your hands to yourself?” A large hand is felt at the scruff of his neck, and suddenly he is yanked away from the cages. “They’re not pets, Monty. If you stick your fingers into things down here you _will_ lose them.”

He steps back and out of the way, watching as the door to the cage suddenly pops open. “Is this the one?” The doctor steps into view, peering in while his father reaches for the monkey and drags it out of its cell with all kindness absent.

“Indeed. Subject 97 has been showing ample progress.” The way his father grabs its neck and carries it like it’s a doll seizes Monty with panic. The monkey tries to fight him off as it’s carried towards the front of the lab, but one firm jerk from his father’s hand sees it withdraw the attempts.

“Wait- what are you doing? He doesn’t like that!” Monty follows them, ignored by both men still deep in their conversation. He catches up finally, moving to stand in front of them to block their way. “Why aren’t you listening to me? You’re hurting him!”

“And I’m going to hurt you if you don’t move out of my way. Don’t make me regret taking you down here.” His fathers finger points dangerously at his face, and his friend watches without batting an eye. “You don’t understand yet, Monty. The work I do down here is on path to change the world as we know it. Work that is far bigger than a couple of throw-away **_monkeys_**.”

Monty’s chest tightens when he watches his father push the animal down onto a table, strapping it down by the throat before moving away and collecting a set of vials.

“These things were raised in captivity and sold off or donated to the world of science, Monty. They may not understand the sacrifice they make, but that’s our job.”

He shakes his head, backing away as he watches the monkey begin to squirm beneath bright lights, as if he will be next if he isn’t careful enough. “That’s...not true. No animal deserves that– and they’re our closest relatives, father…why would we hurt our own?”

His father scoffs and looks to the doctor, “That’s his mother speaking. She’s making him soft.”

“Well, he’s not wrong. The boy is young still, Dorian. He doesn’t realize yet that we must make do with what we have within the boundaries of the law.” His friends chips in, folding his arms and keeping his eyes trained on the animal who continues to fight against its hold. “There is something to be admired about compassion within science.”

“Yes, well if he loves these things so much perhaps I’ll let him live down here with them.” The look his father gives him is not one of jest. “They don’t live the same way they do in your mother’s paintings, Monty. I can promise you **_that_**.”

The screeching starts then, when suddenly a needle is being inserted into the monkey’s arm. Monty backs as far away as he can, breathing heavy as he watches the two men work over it, ignoring it’s cry for help. Suddenly his back it’s a panel, and another voice spooks him.

“Hey, watch yourself young man. You’re one button away from unleashing all hell in this place.” A scientist warns him before guiding him a safe distance away. A flash of anger sees Monty tear himself out of the guided grip.

“Don’t touch me!” Blinded by the tears welling in his eyes, the boy shoves his way out of the room and runs as fast he can back up to the home above.

——

The manor is pitch black… _finally_. All attendants having went to bed or left for the day while his own parents retired hours earlier. It was all according to schedule, after spending a couple of weeks observing patterns before deciding when was the best moment to finally slip out of his room and down into the kitchen. Monty keeps quiet, still, and peers around every corner to make sure there is no one around to see him heading down beneath the house and back into the labs.

“I read that these aren’t actually good for you.” Monty sits on the ground, carefully cutting up the first banana into bite size pieces. “It’s like your version of dessert. After everything you’ve been through…I figure you deserve it.”

Taking a handful of the pieces into his palm, he rises and takes one to carefully place inside of the cage. Allowing the monkey to approach it on its own terms, rather than fear the hand of another human. “Go on. It’s good, see?” Monty pops a piece into his mouth, chewing and grinning as if to convince the monkey it’s alright.

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t trust me either.” Monty places the pieces of banana into other cages before moving back to start cutting up another one. He had made sure there was just enough for all of them to get a small piece…though he does worry that some may not be able to eat it in time before the morning crew comes in.

Then again, what harm could this possibly bring him? They get fed regardless, that much he knows for sure. What’s a little midnight snack?

When he goes back to his spot to finish collecting the last handful of slices, he looks up to see the conscious monkey having approached the door to the cage and inspecting the fruit placed in it. Afraid to scare it away, Monty stays still and watches the being carefully. A smile pulls at his lips when finally the monkey takes the offering and begins to nibble at it.

“I knew you’d enjoy that.” He walks away and finishes the job, making sure to collect his mess before walking up to the cage and finding the shine of the monkey’s eyes staring back at him. “I wish I could help you more. I’m sorry about what they do to you. Maybe one day you’ll find a way out of this place.”

With a heavy breath, Monty nods goodbye and makes to leave the lab. He’s nearly at the door when he pauses…as if remembering something. And he does. He turns around and heads over to where that scientist gave him a warning. With pressed lips he observes the panel the best he can in the darkness of the room. Finally, he sees a key sticking out and sitting next to a button protected by a plastic cover.

Beneath, it reads: ‘Release’.

——

**_Present_ **

Kim’s not sure how long they’ve been sitting there lip-locked, but she confirms that the man wasn’t kidding when he mentioned they had a lot of making up to do. He seemed intent on sharing with her every deep swipe of his tongue and movement of his lips that she would have been victim to in the previous weeks if not for her mistake. Kim gladly meets every gesture as well, far more proactive and eager as they tangle further on that sofa.

A strong arm curls around her, while his free hand pulls her thigh to rest over his hips, and she can’t help but wonder how he knows what she wants when not even she realizes it. Monty kisses her as if he’s done so a thousand times, as if he’s mastered her lips and developed a craving for her lifetimes ago. She wonders if he’s thinking the same thing. If she’s satisfying him the very same way– as if every part of her felt crafted just for him. Laughable– as if she could even focus on herself in those moments. The man latches onto her and she swears if he had the ability he would simply drink her dry.

And so there is only one focus: how does she come out of this alive?

She hates the whine that escapes her when he first breaks that kiss, far more interested in the real estate of her neck that has yet to be explored. Her skin ignites at the teeth that threaten to bite right into her jugular, and she’s almost ashamed that she wishes he would actually do it. Her own hand releases its grip from the hair behind his head and slides down to push into his gi. Fingers travel over his bare chest, distracted by a thick scar that sits over it. One she can’t see but feel, and she follows it further– over his heated skin and up to his shoulder where she clings eagerly.

“Hey-!”

She takes that previous wish back when sharp teeth nearly puncture the side of her neck, seeing Kim apply pressure where her hand sits on his shoulder. The attempt to ease his teeth somewhat works, but Monty isn’t so easily distracted and continues to paint her neck with teeth and tongue.

“You don’t like it?” His voice mumbles in her ear, while his hands secure their hold on her further.

“I don’t want you leaving any marks.” Truth be told, the pain itself doesn’t stand as a dealbreaker…but she won’t be walking around anytime soon wearing one of his _badges_.

“And if I were to leave them where they can’t be seen?” Those words are enough to sober her up from his intoxication, finally pulling back to look into blue eyes that are so obviously keen on keeping her right where she is. He almost doesn’t give her the chance to respond, moving backin to pick up where he left off before Kim halts him again with a firm hand.

“No.” Her voice is soft, both reassuring the man that she’s still game for what he has to offer as well as setting clear boundaries for now. Monty doesn’t even attempt to pretend he isn’t displeased by that response.

“Is that your final answer?”

“Ahem– my lord,” Kim can’t decide if Bates is a punishment or a god-send, but his sudden interruption is surely the only thing that can draw Monty’s attention away from her in that moment, and even then he only offers his gaze while his hands still cling to her form, “I’ve finally received word back from…ehrm…your _friend_. They’re willing to meet.”

Kim’s brows raise at Bates’ secretive message. It’s obvious that whatever information is being shared, isn’t meant for her ears. The distraction pulls her back to reality even as her lips are still swollen and skin still heated as she remains comfortable against him.

“Very well. I’ll head over to the hangar now. Let them know I can be there by tomorrow afternoon.” That surprises Kim a bit, now incredibly curious as to what could possibly be pulling him away so suddenly. She won’t jump at it just yet, but she does shift off of him– ready for his inevitable departure. His hands react to her movement, not quite willing to let her go just yet and turning his attention back to her when Bates departs with a bow.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave.” Kim offers softly,

“And who said that? You’ve only just got here.”

“What’s your suggestion?”

“Well…I know you’re dying to tear this place a part… so you _could_ stay here and wait for my return.”

Kim scoffs at that, “You want me to occupy myself by counting the amount of incriminating things you have in your possession? And then wait for you to come back so you can…what? Get in one last kiss before I leave?”

“Heh. Maybe I was hoping by the time I came back, you’d have changed your mind about what you want me to do with my mouth.” He leans in and growls those words, feverish in the way his lips reclaim her own. Kim can’t help but grin against him, amused by his train of thought. She’s just as eager for that kiss, but won’t allow herself to get lost in it again– not if she needs to say goodbye which she’s certain will prove rather difficult already.

“I’d rather explore this place with the person who put it together.” Her hand cups the side of his neck, and she strokes her thumb over the meat of his jaw. With one last look she pulls out of his hold and rises from her seat. Feeling weightless from the dream they had imprisoned each other in, Kim smooths down her skirt and takes a breath. “I don’t suppose you could call me a taxi?”

Kim looks over her shoulder at him when he stands up behind her, quietly hoping he won’t make this too difficult for her.

“Come with me.”

She doesn’t expect that. Kim turns to face him with brows drawn together, not quite sure what Monty has in mind.

“I’m headed to Kyoto. Japan. Making a…transaction of sorts. Nothing that will get you into trouble…I promise.” He steps closer to her, as if he knows that she’s ready to list off all the reasons why she should say ‘no’. “Don’t overthink it. Just say ‘yes’.”

And so, she does.

——

“Regretting your decision yet?”

Kim’s attention is pulled away from the window when Monty joins the seat across from her. She smirks at the pleased look on his face, settling back with folded arms and observing his new appearance. He had changed out of his usual get-up, and into something a little more _civilian_.

“I’m waiting for you to give me a reason to.” It comes out like a jest, but they both know her words are honest.

“Good. It’s a favorite pastime of mine to prove people _wrong_.”

“How does that sound _more_ villainous than the previous?” Kim smiles at him, finding herself wondering why all of _this_ …took so long. What was stopping them before? Why hadn’t things fallen into place earlier if this was what was waiting for them? Of course, those answers are painfully obvious. And she knows better not to believe that what she feels right now should set the expectation for them going forward.

Monty answers with his own charming grin, reassuring her of the exact villainy she calls him out for. The two lapse into a brief silence, with only the subtle roar of the jet filling the void between them. It was going to be a long flight, and while Kim knows she’s better off finding sleep before they arrive, she quickly accepts that it will simply not be possible.

“You look nervous.”

Not for the first time, Kim finds herself wondering if the man before her does indeed have telepathic powers. “I _am_ nervous. I… _don’t_ want to regret this. I also left… ** _everything_** in Paris.”

“Along with your coat?” Monty teases, smirking over at her and earning a look of daggers thrown his way. “Perhaps you’ll find some time out of your comfort zone is exactly what you need.”

“I don’t disagree, I just…didn’t really plan on an impromptu trip to Japan with… _you_.”

“Well, neither did I. There was still so much left to finish on that sofa.” Those words win a sheepish tug of her lips and tinted cheeks while her gaze diverts away from him.

“I hope you’re not saying we can _only_ pick up from there.” Dangerous words but truthful ones. This may be a trip for business, but Kim would’t have tagged along if it meant having to wait until their return to…exchange any affection again.

Monty grins, “Not at all.”

And while his lips do serve as excellent distraction for a small portion of their flight, she finds the man is far more popular than she expected. Phone calls and emails force his attention away from her. It does concern Kim that the business he conducts during that flight may be that of a criminal nature, and that _she_ is witness to it. But she doesn’t ask. Nor does she try to pay it much mind as she’s certain it would simply drive her insane otherwise.

By the time he is free of such work, she’s able to rest her eyes even if sleep doesn’t come to her. Monty joins her side and attempts to rest as well, quietly offering a warm shoulder to rest her head upon rather than the hard surface near the window. And if not for the discomfort of a plane, Kim is certain she would have found sleep easily against him.

They arrive in the late afternoon in Kyoto, the both of them exhausted even if neither will admit it. Monty, to her surprise, had allowed her to use his phone to contact her parents. He was all too delighted to listen to her lie about her current whereabouts as they continued to believe she was still in Paris. She gets an earful from him, and tries not to act as amused as she is when he claims his presence is influencing her.

Kim has no doubt that in some ways, it might just be.

An hour after landing, a car takes them to an impressive estate surrounded by stone walls but still sitting comfortably within the city. Friends in high places– nothing that surprises Kim much.

“What’s that?” Kim folds her arms and stares at the lengthy case in which Monty collects from the trunk of the car after they’ve exited. Kim is both taken by the beautiful sights and structures that Kyoto offers her in that moment, but not distracted enough from the very business that will now, hopefully, come to light.

“A…gift.”

“For your ‘friend?’” Kim cocks a brow, her curiosity gaining her back some short-term energy. While he did assure her that this trip wouldn’t be tying her to any criminal transactions, Kim knows too well not to be setting her expectations high.

“Heh. I’m not sure they’d appreciate it if I referred to them as such, but as it stands they _are_ the closest to that title.”

“What does that mean?”

“Those who have somewhat _accepted_ my change in lifestyle… don’t exactly wear _halos_ , Kimberly.”

“I thought you said this wasn’t anything that would get me in trouble.” The verbal worry sees the monkey master bring a gloved hand to her cheek, drifting his knuckles gently over its curve. The touch is surprisingly soft and...promising. It nearly sucks the air right out of her lungs.

“It isn’t. Trust me.”

Surely he must know how ridiculous that sounds, but Monty in truth had not given her much reason to distrust him. Well, aside from his title as Monkey Fist and his ‘betrayal’ that had brought the two together, Monty _has_ kept his word. Kim nods her head and walks with him up the steps and through the entrance of the wall. At the entrance of the home, Kim can see a tall woman standing and waiting for them. She’s older, with dark hair pulled back neatly and with thin glasses that sit upon her angular nose. Her posture is impeccable, and she stands with a power that reminds her of the man beside her.

“Lord Fiske.”

“Kaida.” Monty stops at the bottom of the steps, bowing to the woman without hesitation. Kim follows suit beside him, noting the woman’s tone with Monty that doesn’t sound at all… _friendly_.

“I’m glad to have finally reached you.” He rises and straightens up, gesturing to Kim beside him, “I hope you don’t mind, this is Kim-.”

“Possible. I know. Though I am surprised to see her here with _you_.” She walks down the steps then, her eyes locked with Kim’s. Not knowing what to expect, she maintains a neutral ground, and puts on a brave face when the woman stops short in front of her, “Shouldn’t you be keeping better company?”

“Probably,” she smirks and folds her hands together, remembering what Monty had mentioned. The woman was most likely _not_ an ally of Kim’s, and so she will need to keep things as level as as she can. What the world knows as ‘Kim Possible’ is left in Paris, for now, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hm. Likewise.” The look given to Kim confirms the woman may mean the complete opposite of what she says, but her focus doesn’t linger on her for long before she’s turning to observe Monty. Eyes shift to the case in his hand and the woman inhales deep from her nose.

“Let’s not waste any time then, shall we?”

The two follow her into the house but they need not go far. They are brought to the center of the front room, where a large open atrium sits in the middle. The garden within it is breathtaking, and Kim is careful not to step off of the path as they reach a stone table in the middle.

“I haven’t been home for quite some time. I’d apologize for not responding sooner but…you and I both know you don’t deserve it.” Kim looks at Monty then, quietly curious of the history in which has left the woman with a bad taste in her mouth.

“I understand.” The man retorts evenly, setting case down upon the table but keeping his hand on the handle of it. “I’ll be sure to make things quick for you.”

There’s a tension amongst them then as the woman, Kaida, stares hards at the man before clearing her throat and nodding towards the table.

“Well? May I?” She raises a brow and Monty nods while gesturing his hand to the case.

“Please.” He takes a step back and joins Kim at her side, the two of them watching quietly as the woman rounds the table and carefully unclasps the locks. There’s a moment of heavy anticipation then, and Kim watches with intensity as the lid of the case is slowly pulled open to reveal... a sword. A katana, by the looks of it.

The woman gasps at the sight and brings a hand over her mouth. Concerned by the sudden reaction, Kim steps forward out of habit, only for Monty to take hold of her arm and gently pull her back.

“After all these years...” her other hand drifts over the sheath, trembling at the touch. Kim can tell she’s holding back tears, clearly shaken by what is displayed before her. “How many times did you turn me down?”

“I lost count.”

“Why?” She turns to him then, her eyes very obviously reddened and glazed with unfilled tears. “Why now?”

Monty straightens up and folds his arms over his chest, “I got bored of looking at it.”

She scoffs in disbelief and shakes her head. “Does she know?” A finger points at Kim then, who’s brows raise when the attention is suddenly on her.

Monty doesn’t answer, as it appears he knows the woman will do so for him. “This blade belongs to my ancestor. A great grandfather from centuries ago. When he died it was stolen from his grave- it made its way from Japan to Europe where it was sold and auctioned I don’t know _how_ many times. My family spent decades trying to track it down, believing to have located it at a museum in America. And when I had finally the power and money to acquire it... I found out _someone_ had beaten me to it. They replaced the sword...with a rather impressive **_fake_**. A greedy young man who was eager to have all that symbolized power. No amount offered for it would satisfy him. Isn’t that right, Fiske?”

Kim’s lips part then before she looks up and over at Monty who remains quiet. His silence confirms that story, and Kim can understand now why she had reacted the way she did. Trying to recover something that belonged to her family from a man who…Kim can imagine wasn’t very kind about it.

To put it _lightly_.

“I thought you were lying when you called. Figured this was another trick of yours. Give me one thing and leave with another. Though i suppose that could be the case still, couldn’t it? You’ve even brought _Kim Possible_ along with you.” The woman scoffs in disbelief, the back of her hand roughly wiping beneath her eye as if to collect a tear that had escaped against her will. “So- what do you want for it, then? And before you say anything, I’m clean out of anything **_monkey_** -related. I didn’t need **_that_** target on my back.”

“I’m not looking for payment.” That surprises both of them, and Kim can’t help but feel uneasy by all of this. “It was long overdue. We don’t have to make this a thing.” Monty steps forward then, attempting to brush this all off as if it were no big deal. “ _Well?_ Shall we go put it where it belongs?”

The woman lets out an exhausted sigh, as if she’s held it in her whole life. Nodding her head, she picks up the sword and leads them out of the atrium and into a room at the corner of her home. On display in a nook in the wall, is a full samurai uniform bearing red as its color with golden accents. They watch as she places the sword on an empty stand in front of it. The set… finally complete.

“I’d...like to be alone for a little while. Please, help yourselves to some tea.”

They leave her alone, and Kim can’t help but feel her heart ache for the woman who’s mood changed completely when she saw what was offered to her. It was night and day, and while part of her is eager to praise Monty for what he’s done, she fears that his intentions may not be so pure. And so when they are lead outside to another garden where tea is served to them, Kim paces nearby while the man eagerly takes to his drink.

“What’s the catch, Monty… _really?_ ”

“There is no catch.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

Kim rubs her temples as she stands before him, trying to understand just what it is he’s doing. “I can’t help but feel like something else is at work and I just don’t see it. The same day I drop in, you decide to pull a good deed?”

“Just a coincidence, my dear. Whether you were here or not, my decision would have been no different. ”

“If that’s the truth…then why? You kept it for all of these years…clearly uninterested in ever giving it away. Getting ‘bored of looking at it’ is a poor excuse even **_I_** know she doesn’t believe.”

“Perhaps having a taste of something valuable stolen from me has given me a different perspective.” That answer is far more honest than she expects. Kim drops her arms and looks upon him with a frown.

“So, Monkey Fist is nursing back to health an injured monkey, forgiving his enemies, and returning artifacts in which he’s previously stolen?” A thought occurs to her then, and while a smart part of her is humored by it…she won’t ignore the idea, “Does Jindosh still have the **_real_** Monty Fiske?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kimberly.” He’s not as amused by that idea, “I’ve helped animals, and more specifically _monkeys_ , my whole life. And as it stands…you are _not_ my enemy– therefor my forgiveness should not come as such a shock.” Blue eyes dart to her then, narrowing as he gives further explanation that may just make her eat her words, “And if I told you that our host is guilty of crimes arguably worse than my own? Tell me, Kim, would you feel so conflicted over my morality then?” 

The answer is ‘no’, but she won’t dare to say it.

“Don’t read into it. You’ll only be disappointed.” The man drawls before taking another sip of his tea, no longer willing to amuse accusations that paint him in any other light than he want her to see him in.

And…he has a point. Kim stands there and stares at him with pressed lips, still refusing to be fooled by him again. Yet she’s _always_ known he’s cared more for the well-being of monkeys rather than humans. She _does_ know that while this woman may be bleeding for her family and showing familiar and relatable humanity, that beyond that there is a very real monster she has yet to meet. And more than anything, she knows just how incorrect it is to call each other enemies while as she speaks Monty further tangles around her insides, and Kim has no intention of getting him out.

She’s looking for reasons to distrust him, believing he is doing and saying whatever he can to gain it in the first place. But he isn’t. This ** _is_** who he is…and this is the life he has and will surely continue to lead. It reminds her that while all of this is fun, he is a very real threat to her. That he is being _exactly_ who he has always been, and she is simply observing through a different filter now. She almost feels guilty at the thought. Accusing him of trying to trick her when in reality, she is struggling to accept that the growing feelings for him are not of a man he’s creating in her head. It’s of him…the man she has ** _always_** known.

Kim joins him then, taking a seat at his side and daring to slide her fingers around the inside of his arm. He welcomes it, shifting towards her and watching her with interest. “You’re right,” she admits, “Old habits die hard. Monty, I’m…glad you decided to give it to her.”

She hopes she won’t regret saying that.

“Heh. That makes two of us.”

Monty’s smile warms her then, and in that moment Kim wants nothing more than to feel his warmth again. To press close and to let him do with her what he will...even if it _does_ mean marking her skin. He reads that clearly, and wastes no time before leaning in to do them both the favor. But he stops before their lips can meet, as if sensing the sudden presence before hearing the voice belonging to it.

“You were an arrogant young man who only got worse when he unleashed his inner animal.” Kim’s eyes go wide at the sudden voice heard nearby. The two of them look to see Kaida standing upon the wooden deck, a little more poised but a reddened nose and puffy eyes.

Without thinking Kim reaches down to take hold of Monty’s wrist, as if both afraid of more words that will be thrown his way, or what he might do in response to them. “But perhaps you have learned a thing or two since the last we spoke. It would be my honor if you were both to join me for dinner. If you won’t accept payment, it’s the very least I can do.” 

Kim doesn’t expect that, but she’s more than relieved at the offer. Her hand eases then, and Monty’s eyes shift to her as if it were her decision to make.

And so she makes it, giving him a silent nod.


	11. Pomegranate Seeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is so long and choppy and messy and im sorry but lmao there's a bunch I needed to get in before...the next phase of this story which HAS been planned out and god im so excited to finish and publish it all. anyway, thanks for the patience! I've been moving and transitioning jobs so as expected I've had seldom time to do anything lmao. anyway, please enjoy!!

**_10 Years ago_ **

“I have to admit you’ve impressed me, Lord Fiske.”

She watches his figure from a distance, surveying the man carefully while all other guests enjoy the party on the other side of the castle. He doesn’t seem quite bothered by the sudden company, and for that she takes another step forward, watching his shoulders turn slightly.

“It’s a growing collection.” He answers dryly, somewhat disinterested.

“That it is. However, I speak not of your worldly possessions, boy. Any trust fund fool could have _any_ of this.” That gets his attention then, seeing him turn and smile as it appears he recognizes her appearance. “I’m _impressed_ that you’ve got everyone here fooled. The whole world, even. Thinking you’re prince of the Learning Channel. A poor little orphan who’s managed to make a name for himself. They don’t know who you _really_ are.”

“Heh. And here I thought this birthday would be boring.” The young man finishes his drink and sets the flute down nearby before adjusting his tie and walking towards her. “This will be good. Please, do tell me who you think I _really_ am. I surely don’t hear it enough.” The sarcasm drips heavy from his lips, and the amusement vanishes from his face.

“I bet many people don’t care to look past your mountain of lies. Your obsession was particularly revealing. Those scars on your arms...I recognized them. For only those who study that of Monkey Kung Fu are faced with that of a jungle beast to prove their worth.”

Monty’s brows furrow further at that.

“Ordinarily I’d offer my congratulations…as you survived the cat. Which means you also picked up a few moves to go taking what you’d like– isn’t that right? You steal, and you fight, and you hide behind this little persona.” Her gloved hand gestures at his torso, as if pointing out the figurative mask and costume. “How you’ve managed to juggle the weight of two different lives without breaking... ** _that_** is beyond me.”

They stand in silence, and the man before her watches with a glimmer of delight in his eyes. He makes no attempt to deny such accusations as they both know what she speaks is the truth. Straightening his posture, Monty slips his hands into his pockets and lets out a dramatic sigh.

“If you’re done with your thesis, perhaps you can get to the part where you tell me what item you’re here for, hm? That _is_ it, isn’t it? I’ve got something that you believe belongs to you.”

“I _know_ it belongs to me.”

“Sure you do. Well? By all means,” He gestures to the room then, one of many that house weapons and artifacts and art. All that she has carefully observed already, “ _enlighten_ me.”

The woman stands there and skims the room for the umpteenth time, huffing softly as he seems to know exactly what she does. It isn’t there. Not where she can see it, at least. Lord Fiske cocks his head to the side, as if to mock her.

“What? Don’t see what you’re looking for?” He takes a step closer, lifting his chin in with a challenging stare. His voice dips low, keeping the volume soft despite being alone, “Are you wondering why Samurai Jin Sakai’s sword isn’t on display at an event where his kin would be attending?”

Kaida’s eyes go wide at that name and the sudden revelation he plops into her lap. Her face pales and she can see that such a reaction has further delighted him.

“Well, would you look at that. Perhaps you _don’t_ know me as well as you think. You see, it’s not often I leave anything to chance.”

“If you know who I am then you’ll know I won’t stop at anything to get back what belongs to me.” She grits her teeth to suppress the subtle shake to her voice. Dealing with men like him is nothing new to her…but it appears she may have just underestimated this one.

“You’ll only be wasting your time. And from what I understand, that’s something you don’t have a lot of. You’ve got an organization to run, haven’t you? An empire.” Underestimated him deeply. It appears he knows more than he should, and she can’t quite help but be angry at herself for not being more careful.

Without risking any further frustration or surprise, Kaida clenches her fists and steadies her tone, “Then what is it you want? Money? A cut of the business?” Things no man could turn down so easily.

Of course, if she did not know already, she would quickly learn that the lord before her was no regular man.

“Don’t insult me. I already have what I want: what **_no one else_** has.” His grin is conniving and nauseatingly arrogant. He’s proud of this. Amused. She refuses to allow anyone to treat her with such disrespect, and with a sharp inhale she steps up to him without a trace of fear on her face.

“Lord Fiske, do **_not_** make an enemy of me. I will get that sword back. And when I do, you will endure the wrath of all generations of Sakai you’ve now dishonored.”

A promise she intends to keep… even if it is met with another grin and narrowed eyes that look to be begging for such an outcome.

“Heh. I look _forward_ to it. The place is yours to tear apart if you so please...but I can assure you, you’ll have no luck.” He glances up to the ceiling then, eyeing one of the camera’s in the corner of the room. A reminder that while they are alone, they _aren’t_. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve a castle full of top shelf liquor that won’t drink itself. Do enjoy the party, Mrs. Sakai.”

As if to add insult to injury, he bows his head and shares with her one last smirk before brushing past and leaving the room with a confident swagger. And as she watches him leave, she pictures just what it might be like to thrust that sword right through his chest.

——

**_Present_ **

Kim turns to look at Monty with narrowed eyes, lowering her chopsticks and swallowing down her mouthful of rice, “You _really_ said all of that?”

“It was a long time ago.” Monty admits, trying to brush it off as he himself distracts himself with the food before him.

“Yes. When his ego sat above the clouds. You thought you were untouchable. And in some ways, you were. That was only the first time I had tried– of course, you became harder to reach in the recent years…gallivanting as **_Monkey Fist_**.” Kaida chimes in again, glaring at the man but appearing not to hold too much weight to unpleasant words.

“Gallivanting isn’t how _I_ would describe it.” Kim adds, giving Monty another look that is somewhat playful. “Kaida…now that it’s back in your possession, that promise you made–.”

“Do I still intend to chop dear old Monty here into tiny pieces so I can feed him to his monkeys?” The two guests pause at that, and Kim worries that their current peace might not hold much longer. “While my wife may not be pleased…I think perhaps my family would not agree to punishing a man who is righting a wrong, no matter what way he dresses it up as.”

“Do give her my best wishes.” Monty retorts dryly, leaving Kim to shake her head at him. Only _he_ could spit in the face of mercy.

“Not that it would matter to you, but…I think you’re making the right decision.” Kim offers a genuine look of gratitude. It earns her a look of surprise from the both of them, but more so their host who leans forward and props her chin up into her hand while staring with interest.

“Maybe one day you’ll really tell me the reasoning behind your change of heart, Monty.” Her eyes keep on Kim as she speaks, leaving her feeling far more unsettled with the sudden attention. “Unless I’m looking it right in the face. I’d normally keep out of such business, but it _is_ hard to ignore what’s going on here.”

“ _Nothing_ is going on here.” Both women shift their gazes over to him then, and Kim can’t help but begin to worry over where this conversation is headed.

“Still haven’t kicked that lying habit of yours, I see. Why don’t you let the girl answer.” The woman puts her back on the spot and Kim knows she will fail this test. She isn’t a good liar, a trait she’d always been somewhat proud of. But now? She wishes she could summon such an ability.

“Oh... um.. well,” Green eyes shift to Monty who watches her quietly. There doesn’t seem to be much of an expectation from him, which soothes her somewhat as she would hate to disappoint him. That thought alone worries her but she doesn’t care to delve into that idea just yet, “I recently required his help. I... think we both found our skills compliment each other’s rather well.”

A vague answer that isn’t so much of a lie than it is unrevealing.

“Hmm... I’ve never known you to go handing out favors, Lord Fiske. What did **_you_** get out of it?”

They both silently agree that this is a losing battle, and so neither of them answer. Kim thinks to at least say something but before she can, Kaida speaks again.

“I can understand why you’d want to keep it a secret, but I am no _fool_. I couldn’t care less for this little romance or _whatever_ it is.” Hearing it said out loud sees her heart sink a little. Afraid that such an appearance may not actually hold much truth. Afraid that this woman may now hold an upper hand against a man who has wronged her in such a way that many would deem unforgivable.

Her next words, however, surprise her.

“I guess I don’t need to tell you that you should be careful, Miss Possible. Not of your secrecy, but of **_him_**.” Kaida looks to Monty then, her brows drawn slightly together, “I respect your decision to bring me the sword and I’m grateful that you’ve made it. But there is terrible unrest within you, Monty. A few good deeds won’t heal you.”

An interesting observation made out loud, and one Kim can’t disagree with. Kaida speaks a truth that Kim didn’t know how to put into words. She’s right. There’s something at war inside of him…something that has been pushing and pulling her into all directions ever since they had begun working together. It would be too easy to label it as a search for redemption, as Kim is nearly certain that isn’t his intent. But with how secret the man is, she feels it’s impossible to know just what his intentions are. Kissing her, helping her, returning a possession for no believable reason…

Kim finds herself watching the Monkey Master with concern and curiosity etched in her gaze. Attention that sees the man turn to look at her with something just as gentle.

“Kim. Mind giving us a moment?” She nods her head and wonders if such an answer will be revealed without her knowledge. Still, she obliges and thanks their host again for the meal before quietly dismissing herself into the garden where she sits and waits

Back inside, Kaida doesn’t waste any time in leaning back and folding her hands over the table. She states what’s on her mind with an amused grin. “Sweet girl. I can see why you like her.”

“Our visit here needs to be kept quiet.” Monty won’t indulge the comment, as the woman is still far more enemy than she is friend. The less she knows, the better.

“Surprising considering you’ve never shied away from showing off your prizes.”

“She’s not a _prize_.” Monty washes down the last of his drink before letting out a breath and giving Kaida an answer more genuine than either of the two can expect, “I promised I would keep things quiet, and I do understand that I may not deserve that from you.”

“No. You don’t. But _she’s_ done me no wrong. And for that I will keep ** _her_** secret safe.” There’s relief to be felt in that assurance, but before she can allow Monty to feel it, she inquires about his morality yet again, “So tell me, Lord Fiske, what exactly _is_ troubling you so much?”

——

Kim is kept occupied by the koi pond in the garden, having been given some food by an attendant who was happy to let her feed the beautiful fish that dominate the water. She loses track of time both by her task but as well as the swarm of thoughts that now flood her mind. Thoughts and questions about the man now sewing himself into her life. A villain, who in the recent year had not quite acted as such.

And why? Why change now? Was there something more to it all that he was simply hiding from her? From... everyone?

Or maybe... this is who he’d always been. A part overshadowed by the man known as Monkey Fist who gave no other room for anything else. Kaida’s words stick with her still… ‘ _a few good deeds deeds won’t heal you_ ’. Is that he’s trying to do? To heal? And if so…what is the damage?

“And to think you’d be eating boring hotel food in Paris if you’d not agreed to come along.” Kim looks over her shoulder to see Monty standing on the deck and heading down into the garden. She turns fully and crosses her arms over her chest to challenge that greeting.

“I didn’t know boring food _existed_ in Paris.”

“Live there long enough and it all becomes rather boring.” Kim scoffs at that response and watches as Monty stops a distance away, as if to survey the situation before jumping into anything familiar.

“So, the adults are done talking now?”

“Heh. It’s _not_ like that.”

Kim smirks and makes a face that suggests she doesn’t agree. She drops the topic and turns slightly to observe the pond again, careful not to give him her back completely.

“Who knew? Even when you played the role of charming scholar... your innocence was just a pretense.” She refers to the story of Kaida and Monty’s first meeting, which may have just destroyed some of her younger self’s admiration for the man.

“Perhaps I should have set my sights on acting instead.” His voice is closer, but he sounds open to playing which sees Kim pushing at unknown bounds.

“I’d pay good money to see that. Daytime television would definitely suit you best...you do have a flair for the dramatic.”

“I’d be insulted but there are housewives everywhere that require such raw talent.” That response sees Kim laugh and shake her head, feeling a little more at ease when a warm hand is felt on the back of her neck.

“Touché.” She gets in the retort before he successfully distracts her– dragging his hand down down between her shoulders and reminding her just how long she’s now gone without any sleep.

“We were invited to stay the night.” Monty’s voice is soft, and his presence and gesture now a comfort. It surprises her that Kaida would offer lodging to them in her own home, but she somehow thinks that the offer is only extended due to her own company rather than the man’s beside her. “What do you think?”

A loaded question when all she’s done for the past month is think and overthink.

“I’m thinking I was not prepared for any of this.” Kim chuckles softly, rubbing softly at the corner of her eye as she feels the exhaustion heavy on her shoulders. “I don’t even have any of my things.”

“I can take care of that, if it’s what you’re worried about.” The ‘how’ behind that assurance doesn’t matter. She trusts that he would look out for her. Finally turning to look into his own tired gaze, her brows draw up and her hand moves to rest upon his stomach.

“Okay, and what do you think?”

“I think you’re tired. And require a bed.”

Kim smirks at that answer, her fingers tugging at the fabric of where her hand sits, “What I mean is... what do _you_ want?”

There’s a pause then, and she knows that while the answer to come may be honest…it’s not the real one burrowed within him, “I want the option that keeps you here a little while longer.”

It’s sweet of him to say, and reassuring. Two things Kim never saw herself equating with the master of monkeys. A deep inhale sees her hand dropping and her form turning to face him completely– a move she later regrets as his own hand falls from her person. 

“I woke up not knowing if you’d even want to _see_ me again. Hearing you say that...” she shakes her head, struggling to wrap her head around the conundrum that is Monty Fiske, “You’re sure you’re not still mad at me?”

“Do you not believe I’m capable of forgiveness?”

Of course, that isn’t what she thinks at all– but he is pointing out the obvious and for that alone it leaves her a little stunned. Not having answered fast enough, Monty steps in closer and leans in to whisper in her ear. “I’ve learned how to tell when someone is _really_ trying to hurt me. That isn’t you. After all...you did come back to help me when we both know I didn’t deserve it.”

An odd thing to bring up– that is if she’s assuming correctly that he’s referring to the whole debacle with DNAmy. She had mentioned such to him a while ago when she stood before him asking for his help. The card she played was a desperate one and fruitless in the moment as he did not seem to agree that he owed her anything. It appears that…maybe she was wrong. The comment may have just stuck with him after all. 

“You did deserve it, just as anyone else would have.” Kim corrects, pulling her head back to look up at him.

He doesn’t agree, and is eager to divert them quickly, “Are we staying or not?”

“Monty.” He won’t get away with it so easily. Kim gently takes his jaw and makes sure that his attention is held. Villain or not, no one deserves to be left behind…not on her watch. “You **_did_** deserve it.”

She punctuates her point and makes certain that he hears and accepts those words. She’s fairly certain he does, as his hands move to collect her hips and draw her closer to him. Her fingers release his jaw and lightly drag down the front of his throat, tracing the muscles until she reaches the bottom where her hand sits over his collarbone. She remembers earlier that day…morning… _whenever_ those glorious moments were when he followed the same trail but with his lips. It’s hard not to sense the magnetic pull between them. They both fight against it for the sheer purpose of keeping up being polite amongst company. And it’s that very company that solves the predicament of not falling into a heated moment.

“ _One_ room then?”

Kim’s hand drops from him and Monty’s follow suit as he huffs and turns around to face their host. “ _Two_ will suffice. Thank you, Kaida.” The decision is made, and Kim couldn’t be happier. A proper bed will be welcomed kindly. She follows Monty over to the woman who smirks as if she holds onto a secret only she knows.

“Of course. I’ve got something you can borrow, Kim. In the meantime I’m happy to see that your clothes are cleaned and ready for your departure tomorrow.” More good news as they are lead through her home that is far more beautiful and elegant than Kim had given credit to earlier.

“I suppose that offer doesn’t extend to me?” Monty’s snide comment earns a sneer from their host who rolls her eyes.

“Even if I did have anything that would _fit_ you, do you really think I’d willingly hand it over? I dare to wonder if you are more animal than man these days.” Kaida smiles at the thought before looking over her shoulder to Kim. “Perhaps my new friend will indulge me some day.”

Kim goes red against her will, glad that Monty ignores the comment while she is left to suffer the implication behind them. They are bought to a corridor with two rooms side by side not soon after, and the woman turns to face them.

“Help yourselves. I’ll be traveling early in the morning, so I’m afraid this is where our meeting ends. It was a pleasure, Kim Possible.” The woman bows to her and Kim doesn’t hesitate to return the gesture. Kaida turns to Monty then, and whatever sour disposition previously held in her gaze for the man was suddenly absent. Her hand reaches out to touch his shoulder, “<Good luck, Monty. The road ahead will not be easy.>”

Brows knit together when Kaida speaks Japanese, leaving Kim to wonder just what was said that was clearly not meant for her to know. She’ll respect that privacy and keep her curiosity to herself– knowing just where it had lead her the last time. And so the woman walks away and leaves the pair of them standing outside of the rooms offered. She’s grateful when Monty turns to her with a deep exhale.

“Have enough energy for a nightcap?”

Just when she thinks a bed is exactly what she needs, the man offers her something not one part of her can simply refuse. “Strangely enough… _yes_.”

——

They sit in her chosen room, settled upon the steps in front of the bed that lead back into the garden that surrounds the home. The two enjoy a bottle of sake, though Kim struggles to finish only one glass while Monty breezes through them. An attendant pops in and leaves the promised clothing from Kaida upon her bed, a reminder that she shouldn’t keep dodging the necessity that is sleep. Still, there’s so much more to discuss.

“When she was telling us that story…she mentioned the scars on your arms. Were they… really from a _cat?_ ”

“A panther.” Monty nods his head as he begins to pour himself another glass, “Monkeys, as you know, aren’t on top of the food chain…and so to survive a bout with their predator is known to be an impressive feat.”

“Survive or…?”

He hides his smirk in his glass, “If I tell you it may revoke my animal-loving card.” The very thought of what he implies does sadden her. His distaste for the human race only ever made it so obvious that the animal kingdom is what he cherished above all else. Kim knows he wouldn’t willingly harm another creature if he could help it.

“Did you have a choice?”

The question sees him scoff, “I wish I had. Of course, what choice do any of us have when we are so young? We are servants to whatever higher law sits above our heads. Though, I suppose you might just be the exception, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh please, I can assure you that I have and still _do_ serve those same higher powers.” She leans forward and rests her arms over her knees, humming softly while a little lost in thought, “Sometimes I think that the false appearance of having any control attracts more people that want to see me under their own.”

She wonders if she’s revealed too much with that, and hesitantly looks over at Monty who watchers her silently. He doesn’t say anything, and it concerns her that his lack of a response is due to the fact that he may just be an example of her statement.

“Are you…one of them?”

“What makes you think that?”

“The way you’re looking at me…the way you _have_ looked at me. Like you’ve crawled your way out of the underworld with the intent to corrupt.”

He grins at that, “A rather interesting example. You don’t suppose Kaida has stocked any pomegranates, do you?”

Kim shakes her head and fails to hide her amusement, “Hilarious. I don’t think I’d be honoring Persephone by making her same mistake.”

“Ah, so you’re familiar with the story?”

“Of course.” It’s one Kim had researched into the ground, certainly taken by that of greek mythology in general. It’s hard not to perk up now that they are on the topic of it, “Hades kidnaps Persephone, trapping her in the the underworld with him until she ‘falls in love’.”

Monty takes another sip of his drink, cocking a brow at her overly simplified explanation. “It doesn’t sound very romantic when you say it like _that_.”

“I’m not sure I ever really saw it as romantic. The tale is told a hundred different ways, but at the end of the day a goddess is kidnapped with no choice in the matter. She’s just…a _thing_ … used to cater another god.”

“Mm, a valid point. I have no doubt that amongst those stories it is _that_ bit that remains truthful over anything else. But I suppose I had always considered the side of Hades. He had only known death, darkness, and solitude, and out of that element fell in love with the woman who brought life to the earth and its soil. He wanted a taste of what he didn’t have...and once he had it he knew he couldn’t live without it. He knew he’d need to do whatever possible to see his love returned.” It surprises her that he appears to be just as interested in the topic, even if their views upon it don’t exactly align.

“ _Or_ maybe he saw her innocence and couldn’t control himself. Stole her for no other reason except that he was greedy.”

“I don’t think you really believe that.”

“Oh yeah? And what do I believe, Monty?”

“That it’s a little more complicated than that.” He finishes his drink but this time doesn’t refill it. He’s focused on their conversation, eager to keep it going, “Hades knew there was no one else for him. He’d do anything to make it work. Even if she hated him for a while...he was willing to be exactly what she needed for them both to be happy. And perhaps after a time...she saw his effort.”

Kim doesn’t respond right away then, and in that moment she can see what’s happening. She can see that see that Monty may not be speaking only on behalf of the mythical god. Her hand reaches out to settle upon his own, gently tracing the knuckles hidden beneath the thick of his hair.

“Her freedom didn’t need to be taken away for her to return his love. My favorite version? Persephone follows Hades willingly into the depths where no one else dared to go. She chooses to be with him. She finds her love for him on her own.”

She can see the subtle surprise on in his face, one he attempts to hide by looking away and silently exploring his thoughts. His lips press after a few moments and his hand turns over beneath her own to slide their fingers together.

“Sounds like you do know the story well.”

“It’s one of my favorites.” Kim welcomes the warmth of his palm in her own, quietly impressed that he appears to be open to her thoughts rather than clinging to his own, “In the end, only they know the truth, right?” She smiles over at him, hoping to lighten the mood, “Should I be glad you are master of monkeys and not the dead?”

“You say that as if the idea still hasn’t crossed my mind.” His smile makes it hard for her to determine whether or not he’s kidding. Still, she figures if he meant it she would have known by now.

“I promise you don’t need to resort to _kidnapping_ to keep me around.”

“No?” He pipes up at that, raising his brows and shifting further to face her, “Go on, then.”

Kim laughs, chewing on her lip as she considers the sudden request– one she hadn’t given much thought to. “I mean...there’s no solid formula.”

“No, but... there must be things you like and _don’t_ like. For instance, you _really_ don’t like being told what to do.” Kim laughs at the example, thinking back to the plentiful examples of what he could possibly be referring to.

“That must be hard coming from the man who _loves_ to throw around orders. Besides…maybe you’re just not doing it the right way.” It’s the sake that speaks that last part, but there’s not an ounce of her wishing to take it back.

“Ooo, care to elaborate?”

“I’d rather watch you figure it out.”

“Devious girl. _Well?_ ”

“I don’t know, Monty. You can be really charming… and even when you aren’t...” Kim shrugs, squeezing his hand and sighing softly. There’s too much to say and too little. She knows exactly what she likes and what she doesn’t, but as she looks upon him it seems impossible to think of either as all she feels is…content before him.

With a heavy breath, Kim looks to him and offers the only thing that comes to mind, “Just... don’t… _hurt_ me.”

“I wouldn’t.” He promises quickly, as if in that same moment he was willing to take back all of the times that he had.

Kim clarifies, of course, as the complexity of their history requires such, “I don’t just mean physically.”

His reaction confirms that the clarification was necessary. His response is unexpected, however, and leaves Kim breathless for a moment.

“Is that a promise _you_ can keep as well?”

It shouldn’t take her as long as it does to answer that– especially as she already knows the answer before it is asked. What stalls her is that whether Monty realizes it or not, he’s admitting to her that past the selfish, power hungry, and violent man he was known to be…he could be hurt. And she had the power to do so. His vulnerability is shown to her, just when she wondered if such a thing existed to him.

“I can promise that I’ll try.” She finally answers him, pulling his hand towards her hip where it doesn’t need anymore direction.

Monty takes hold of her and leans in to kiss her, proving to them both through hungry lips and labored breaths that it had been far too long of a wait since the last time they had indulged themselves. The kiss doesn’t last long, as the mix of sleep deprivation, and the trance his hands and lips manage to put her in are a sound reminder of what she needs most in that moment. Regrettably she peels away from him, still hanging on to his shoulders while he doesn’t yet get the memo and targets the side of her neck instead.

“Monty…I need to go to bed.”

A groan can be heard deep in his throat, but still he picks his head up and looks at the room for a moment before looking back to her.

“The bed is big enough for two... _if_ you want the company.”

Kim does well to suppress the nerves that stir in her stomach at the observation. There’s a large part of her that wants nothing more than to keep him right where he is, but she’s convinced he’d only prove to be a successful distraction– one she can’t have right now.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed yours...company is the last thing I need right now.” Her hand rubs over his chest, as if to keep the heart beneath it warm enough for the next day. And without argument, Monty nods.

“Very well. I’ll see you in the morning.” They get in one last kiss before Monty departs and leaves her to one of the best night’s of sleep she can remember having.

——

It’s mid afternoon when Kim finally wakes. The bright sun floods the room and keeps her warm while she stretches amongst the silk sheets. She’d love nothing more than to lay there in that room for the rest of the day and wait for Monty to claw his way into it– but they need to leave…and she needs to go home.

Pulling herself out of the bed, she unties the robe offered to her the night before and heads into the bathroom where she takes a long shower. Despite the vague understanding that Kaida is just as much apart of the criminal world as Monty is, she can’t deny that the woman has got taste. She thinks she’ll mention that to her if they ever cross paths again. Once finished, a towel is wrapped around her, and she ventures back out into the room where the figure spotted laying on her bed sees her reeling back behind the corner.

“Monty?! What are you _doing?_ ”

His sudden presence jolts her awake, striking fear in her chest as she hears him chuckle in response.

“Just making sure you were alright. Thought you might have never woken up.” An innocent answer that she doubts is the total truth. With a deep breath she comes back into view, keeping hold of the towel while she stares at the man who is fully dressed and waiting for her over the sheets. Resting on his hips are folded clothes…undoubtedly her own that Kaida’s attendants had washed the previous night.

“Well, I’m _awake_. Can you please leave?”

“Heh. What are you so afraid of? It’s nothing I’ve not seen before.” His eyes dance over her, and Kim grows frustrated as she feels this is all playing into his hand. Attempting to keep her composure, she steps forward and evens her tone.

“Could you please hand me my clothes?”

Monty sighs then, biting down on his lip as he stares hard at her. “Well now that I’m seeing you like this, I’d prefer not to give back your clothes at all.”

She should have expected that response. And while the man hasn’t been stepping over any boundaries, he certainly makes a point of finding out just where they are.

“Monty, come on…please don’t do this.” She doubts a plea will work, but she tries regardless.

“Do what?”

Kim doesn’t answer, refusing to play into his act, and merely stands there with the towel tucked close to her. Finally Monty rises from the bed and when he crosses the room towards her, she seizes up with a new fear. A fear that perhaps he’s done finding the boundaries…and that his intent is cross them instead.

“What aren’t you liking, Kimberly?” A few octaves lower and Kim’s mouth goes dry. Fear may dominate her, but she can’t deny the underlying interest very much alive within her.

“How you’re looking at me. Like I’m…something to _eat_.”

“You should give me a _little_ credit, my dear. My self control isn’t as bad as you think. But…you aren’t wrong.” He looks her up and down, wetting his lips just as the wolf disguised as the grandmother had, “I’ve _yet_ to satiate my appetite of you.”

Kim huffs out a breath that reassures her he’s not completely stolen her ability to breathe just yet, giving her a small boost of confidence that lifts her chin and sees her meeting his gaze, “And I’d have been happy to oblige…but it looks like you still have a thing or two to learn about boundaries.”

Without a second thought, Kim drops the towel then… letting it pool at her ankles while she stands before the man stark naked. The utter surprise on his face is worth it. Seeing his brows raise and jaw fall slightly while his eyes drink in the sudden sight before him. Kim steps closer and collects her clothes from his hands before smirking and turning around.

“Thanks.” If only she knew how easy it was to take such power from him, to kick him from his throne when he least expects it. Kim saunters back towards the bathroom, knowing that all the while she is giving the man a sight he least expected.

“You know what? You’re absolutely right. There’s much to learn still, and I can’t think of a better teacher.” She almost laughs as he follows her, sounding almost desperate to keep her just as she is, “So why don’t we do a little trial and error, hm?”

“ _Goodbye_ , Monty.” Kim smirks at him over her shoulder, absolutely loving how it feels with the tables now turned.

“Oh, come now, we have time for a little _fun_. I wouldn’t even need to take my clothes off to give you a morning you _won’t_ forget.” That’s certainly not something she expected to come out of his mouth, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t interested in just what he had in mind. But Kim won’t encourage him.

“You seem so sure of that.” Kim walks back into the bathroom and goes to close the door but Monty’s foot steps in before she can gain total privacy.

“At _least_ let me watch.” Monty looks her up and down with a final attempt, wetting his lips as he is still very much distracted. “I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself…all **_four_** of them.”

It’s a struggle not to show her total amusement, knowing that if she gives him anymore time he will successfully convince her, “I’ll be ready in a few.”

The door closes successfully and Kim bites down her lip to suppress the grin on her lips.

——

“Well don’t you look smug.”

Monty waits outside of the bedroom with arms crossed over his chest. He’s no doubt sour from the tease he had forced upon himself. Kim, now fully dressed and ready for another long day of travel, steps up to him and takes a gentle hold of his wrist.

“And you sound bitter, wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

“No, I woke up in the _wrong_ bed this morning.” His hand reaches for her chin, pulling her in for a hungry kiss that sees her beaming with delight. Her hand pushes his chest to escape him while also visibly enjoying this playful mood he’s in. “I’m not going to be able to focus the rest of the day.”

“You’ll manage.”

“That’s painfully optimistic.”

They touch hands and Kim feels her stomach flutter when their fingers tangle briefly. A promise of something else later to come.

“I think I’m ready to go home.” She hopes to pull them out of this new comfort they’ve stumbled into…one she will happily explore once they’ve both had time to process the past 48 hours. Figuring it may be a difficult task, she’s relieved when Monty nods his head and takes her by the hand.

“Very well. Paris it is.”

——

“You’re certain you can’t spend one more night?”

A half day later and they arrive at her hotel in Paris where he takes to her bed and watches as she packs her things. She’s tempted to forget the suitcase and join him instead, especially after the hours spent together at thirty thousand feet where they made it their mission to get in as much time locking lips as possible. That mood is almost instantly killed when she skims the hundreds of messages waiting for her on her phone.

“Believe me, I would love that... but I need to get home and answer all of these.” She sets the phone on his chest, watching as he lifts it and observes the screen. He unlocks it then, and all she can see is him swiping and punching his fingers against it. With furrowed brows, she shifts to look up at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting my contact in.”

Kim scoffs, “You’re giving me your number?”

“Is the boy genius going to continue being our liaison?” Kim is quiet then, trying to process just what this all means. Of course, she need not process much longer when Monty is suddenly staring at her, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing...just...surprised.”

“Surprised?”

Kim straightens up then, combing a hand through her hair and feeling…uncertain, “I guess I just don’t know what you want.”

“It’s really not obvious?”

“The obvious answer is that you want _Kim Possible_ wrapped around your finger.” Kim retorts, reminding him of who they both were to each other not too long ago.

“As _if_ you’d so easily latch on.” Monty drawls, and for a moment Kim considers that perhaps her question was the wrong one to ask. Why would he answer it? But yet again, the man surprises her, his hand reaching over to where hers sits on the bed and lightly stroking it with the back of his finger, “I want to see where things lead, Kimberly. Aren’t you curious yourself?”

As if she needs any time to consider it, “Yes.”

“Well then. You’ve got your answer. Oh, and just so there’s no confusion– I don’t want you seeing anyone else.” He hands back the phone at that, and Kim takes it while considering his added request of…exclusivity.

Kim looks back at him then, catching the serious look upon his face. “Did you think I would?”

“I think you’re _young_. _And_ wanted.”

“Right, and there aren’t plenty of women who are interested in your _lordship?_ ”

Monty rolls his eyes, “You think I’d have any of them over **_you?_** ”

Kim blushes at that, the smile on her lips uncontrollable after such an unexpected… compliment.

“You have something to say, Miss Possible?”

Kim summons her courage yet again and climbs onto the bed, moving to straddle over his thighs and resting her hands over his hips. She gets a better reaction than she had expected, watching his brows go up and his lips curl into a devious grin.

“Just that...you should expect a call.” Kim leans down and kisses him, feeling his hands move to her hips, but before he can do anything more, Kim breaks away and moves off of him.

“You cruel girl.”

“I have a flight to catch.”

“There will be others.” She closes the suitcase and leans over to take his hand, giving it a gentle tug all while smiling deliciously, “Come on, unless you want me to find my own way to the airport.”

“Can you be so sure that the airport is where I’ll _actually_ take you?”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Kim.” His hand switches then, and takes hold of her wrist while he sits up and keeps her right where she is. She’s pulled to stand at the edge of the bed where he now sits, resting her hands on his shoulders and bracing herself for whatever the next words to come out of his mouth are. They linger in the air, building tension as he snakes his arms around her and presses his mouth to the corner of her jaw.

“You should know that the next time… I **_won’t_** be letting you leave so _easily_.”

A promise or a threat…Kim knows he intends to keep it.


	12. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters?? In one weekend? I can hardly believe it myself. Anyway, there's a lot of location jumping in this one so hopefully it's not too confusing. Hope y'all like angst!

Blue eyes follow the flames of her hair until the crowds swallow her. He watches from the car, quietly annoyed that he’s unable to properly see her off. Too many cameras. Far too many police. They settle for a slow kiss in the back of the car, privacy afforded by the driver who waits with her luggage just outside.

“Call me.”

He means it. He’s not willing to wait another grueling stretch of time before seeing her again. Not when they are both very clearly on the same page with one another. They both want to see where this all goes, even if the destination may surely be ‘disaster’. Knowing his luck, he’d be foolish to count that out just yet.

“I will.”

And he believes her. Patience is often a struggle for him, but he will gladly wait for her call. To hear her voice and the way it will quake when he insists on meeting. When he tells her all that he plans to do to her when she’s within his grasp again. Those very thoughts run rampant in his mind and have ever since her little display in Kaida’s home. She’d pulled the rug right from under him and he enjoyed every bit of it.

“Welcome home, my lord. Tea?” He arrives to the castle hours later, unfastening the top buttons of his shirt as he greeted by Bates and a handful of monkeys who are curious of the new but..familiar scent upon him.

“I’m in need of something a little stronger.” He smirks over at the valet who bows his head in response.

“Very well. Err, a package did arrive for you,” Bates follows Monty through the castle until they’ve arrived in the main room where a fire is already lit. Near it is the package in which Bates refers to, but Monty’s focus is on the decanter of amber liquid that he pours into a glass, “It came just after you had left with Miss Possible.”

“Who’s it from?” He takes a long sip and hums softly as it burns down his chest, helping down one of the monkeys who had taken a perch upon his shoulders.

“It didn’t say. Or rather…the return address looks to be covered.”

“Don’t tell me it’s another crazed fanatic.” Monty drawls as he turns around and heads back over to the package, seeing the thick black ink that strikes out the name and address upon the parcel paper.

“Doubtful, sir. The courier doesn’t usually make such mistakes.”

“Indeed…they are fairly easy to pick out, aren’t they?” None of them ever having remained anonymous. They usually want him to know exactly who and where they are. “Right then, shall we open it?”

He steps back and allows Bates to move towards the rather large package that seems to be in the shape of a large frame. Monty is lost in thought as he tends to his drink and thinks over his last kiss shared with Kim. The way her hair felt between his fingers, and the taste of her lips…he almost smiles at the memory but all is forgotten when Bates tears away the front piece of the parcel.

Thinking he’s hallucinating, Monty steps forward and lowers his drink, standing in front of the frame now held up for him to see.

The glass slips from his hand and shatters against the floor beneath him.

——

**_3 Months Later_ **

_Cancun, Mexico_

“You... _do_ realize that guy has been staring at you for a full hour... right?”

Kim lets out a sigh and carefully shifts her gaze over to the group nearby, spotting the very culprit: a tall blonde with wide shoulders and a red glow over his torso, “Yeah, I know. I think I’d rather just enjoy this vacation...men-less.”

“Isn’t the whole point of this vacation to get over monkey-hands? What better way than to distract yourself with a well...” they both proceed to watch the man then chug down a can of beer before crushing it against his head, “Okay maybe not _him_.”

Laughing, Kim picks up the fruity drink sitting between them, taking a long sip before settling back into her chair and stretching beneath the strong sun. “It’s too bad the guy isn’t on social media. A few pictures looking like this and I bet he’d call you in no time.”

“If he wanted to call he would have. Pictures or not.” Kim responds softly, as if talking about it doesn’t bother her. As if his sudden absence hadn’t...wounded her deeply.

“I’ll never understand that. It sounds like y’all really hit it off and then he just...ghosts you? Kim Possible? **_The_** Kim Possible?”

“I’m not immune to rejection, Monique.”

“I wouldn’t call it rejection- the guy didn’t even tell you he wasn’t interested.” Hearing it again still stings, and Kim can’t help but shift beneath the pain she tries so desperately to hide. “Remind me again, why didn’t you just... go to his place? You did that the last time, right? Maybe he just needs a reminder of what exactly he’s missing.”

“He didn’t answer my calls for a reason. I don’t think showing up will change anything.” She pauses for a moment, closing her eyes and seeing Monty there in front of her, looking at her with a focus that terrifies and excites her.

What had she done wrong?

“Maybe not, but I bet it would feel good to throw him a few clean ones-.” Monique throws some punches into the air with some added sound effects that sees Kim laughing and shaking her head.

“Maybe I should send you over there instead.”

“Don’t tempt me, girl, you _know_ I’ll do it.”

Even if Kim had done that, which by no means did the thought escape her, what exactly does that say for him? Does he only want her when she’s…convenient? No. It doesn’t fit his MO. When the man wants something, he goes after it, and he goes to extreme lengths to do so. The equation adds up the same way every time, and the answer never looks good to her. Months later and it’s still hard to accept…but he doesn’t want her.

Not to speak, or see, or…anything else for that matter.

Yet…he seemed so sincere. Played his role well when convincing her that he was interested and wanted to keep it all going. But she supposes it shouldn’t surprise her. He duped her once…twice…and now for a third time. When will she learn?

——

_Troyes, France_

“<Please... please!! I... I don’t remember...I just... scan the packages... that’s all!>”

“<Well if you scanned it _properly_ , don’t you think it would show in your little system?>” The clerk is thrown with a violent force, sliding across the floor and into a metal desk.

“<Please, I swear to you, I don’t know what happened. I... I don’t know why it’s not there. Please... there’s nothing I can do...honest. The most we can do is...is process a claim...>”

“<Do I **_look_** I have time for a claim? _No_ …>” The shadow stalks forward, fingers extended as if ready to lunge at him again, “<No, someone removed that information and they removed it for a _reason_. I’m going to find out who.>”

The clerk is desperate to get more space between them, but struggles against the dented metal behind him, bringing up his arm as he braces himself for another attack. But nothing comes. After a few moments of heaving breaths, he lowers his arm to find the office now…empty.

——

_French Alps_

“No luck, my lord?” Monty practically snatches the bottle of whiskey from the shelf, having given up long ago on pouring it into any glasses. He brings the bottle to his lips before he turns and stares at the valet who’s gaze grows increasingly worried with every passing day.

“What do you think.” The man drawls, staggering over to the sofa where he drops into the leather and stares at the painting before him that has stayed propped up on the opposite sofa ever since it had arrived. His eyes burn holes into it…just as they do every day. Every night. Every moment he’s awake and not chasing down dead-end leads.

“Sir, I’d like to speak freely… _if_ you’d allow it.”

Monty scoffs, “Do whatever you want.”

Bates takes in a breath before stepping forward and depositing his phone onto the coffee table in front of him. “I’ve seen you like this before. Cutting off the world and obsessing over something you feel is in your control. I don’t fully understand what all of this means to you but…I can see what it’s _doing_ to you. I can’t, in good faith, allow this to continue…not when I’ve seen the good that you have allowed yourself.” 

His grip tightens on the bottle, and his jaw sets while he listens to the man with whatever patience is left inside of him.

“You should… call her.”

Monty barks out a laugh then, “ _That’s_ your bright idea? Drag the cheerleader into all of this? I’ve ignored her for… _how long_ now? And what? How could I possibly explain this without sounding absolutely…”

 _Pathetic_.

Monty doesn’t finish the comment and instead waves his hand at the man, dismissing the concern, “She doesn’t need this right now. Neither do I.”

“My lord, that is an excuse. A poor one, at that. This isn’t about her, it’s about **_you_**.” Bates isn’t willing to give up so easily, and if it were any other time Monty might even be touched by such determination.

“Well I don’t need her. I’ve never needed _anyone_. I can figure this out myself. It’s what I’ve always done.”

“Indeed. And look at where _that_ has gotten you.”

Daggers are sent Bates’ way then, and Monty’s glare could easily set fire to the entire place in that moment. Taking a deep swig of the liquor, he slams it down next to the phone before rising to his feet.

“You have something else to say, Bates?”

The older man retains his courage then, and looks up at the monkey master now stalking over him. Lifting his chin, he takes a deep breath and makes his point clear, “If you continue on this destructive path alone…that is exactly what you will be, whether you are successful or not at the end of all of this.”

Monty’s lip twitches at those words. Words that hold a truth he’s in no shape to accept. Bates had watched him fall head first into a dark hole that Monty had made appear inescapable. Tormenting himself with the mystery of this… _gift_ left for him. A gift that has had him suffocating with pain and doubt and…fear. Time has become irrelevant, his dedication to his art just behind it, and Kim…

A distant and unreachable memory in his mind.

Perhaps he deserves this. The past was bound to catch up with him, and if there was any part of him that thought that any of this could work? It was long gone. He’d already reacted, alreadyburned his bridges and it seems that…this may just be the last one.

And so he responds with a gaze void of care and whiskey soaked words, “Good,” He leans forward and growls lowly, “Now… get the hell **_out_**.”

Bates frowns and sucks in a short breath before nodding and looking away, “Very well, Lord Fiske.”

Monty watches as the man bows his head and leaves, and when he can no longer hear the sound of his footsteps, he unleashes the pent up rage but turning to grab the bottle of liquor and hurling it straight into the fire. The flames react dangerously, and Monty is only drawn closer to them. Reddened eyes stare up at the portrait above, and a sudden laugh is pulled from his throat.

“Oh, I **_bet_** you’re laughing now.” He stares up at that circle of black paint, wishing that face were still there so he could destroy it all over again, “Hope it’s toasty enough for you down there.” Turning his back, he waves his hand over his shoulder and makes his way back to the sofa, “Don’t worry, our reunion will come soon. Not even the devil will be able to stop me from dishing out your punishment. Consider your current time in hell a _prelude_.”

He drops back into the sofa and lets out a long exhale, rubbing his temples where tension becomes evident. Monty stays there for a while, nearly falling into a light sleep before he remembers the phone in front of him. Shifting, he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, staring down at the black screen. His finger hovers over it, and after a few long moments he allows himself to tap upon it.

The screen lights up, and her name is the first thing that he sees.

Frowning, he quietly scrolls down to see the missed calls, a few voicemails, the last ones having been left just about a month ago where it appears she had…given up. All while he was searching for a damned… _address_. What would she think now? To know that all of this time he had been preoccupied with a _painting_ of all things. It kills him to know that she would…probably understand.

_‘I would have helped you’._

Yes. Yes, she would have. Even now, after all of this time…he has no doubt that she would show up for him. Help him. Even if he’s not sure just what he needs. But dragging her back into this? It wouldn’t be fair. It…wouldn’t be right of him to do. And yet, he picks up the phone and stares at the icon…wanting so desperately to push it. The pad of his thumb nearly does so until a faint sound can be heard down the corridor outside of the room.

He rises to his feet and raises his brows, “Bates?”

Monty looks over his shoulder then, expecting to see the man stumble back into the room but there is nothing. He senses he is not alone, however, and sets the phone down before turning to investigate.

“Ceasar?” Usually one of the more active monkeys, but none of them are in sight. The alcohol doesn’t help, as his vision shifts while walking across the room. He stops then and surveys his surroundings, hearing nothing but the crackle of fire that warms his back. There is no doubt that he is not alone, even when it would appear that he is completely so. No monkeys…no Bates… _nothing_.

A short moment later and he finally feels it. The brush of cool air against his neck. And without delay he turns sharply with a direct heel right to the intruder’s jaw. Built and dressed like a soldier, the perpetrator stumbles back and before Monty can follow up, two pairs of hands grab his arms and yank him backwards. Using the momentum, he throws his legs overhead and twists out of their hold– striking at both for extra measure. But every time he turns his back, the masked soldiers multiply and his near belligerent state begins to backfire on him quickly.

He doesn’t see the butt of the rifle coming but it catches hard on the side of his head and sees him dropping to his knees with a grunt.

“Easy, Lord Fiske.” He doesn’t recognize the voice of what seems to be the soldier in charge. He looks up with a growl, feeling hands hold the scruff of his neck and twist his arms behind his back. “We need you to come along in _one_ piece.”

Before any objection can be made, a black bag is thrown over his head.

——

_Middleton, Colorado_

“Still nothing?”

“Nope, looks like you’re not the only one who’s been taking a vacation. There hasn’t been a peep in _weeks._ ”

Kim falls back onto her bed and stares at the screen, failing to hide her disappointment. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but…I miss school. At least Ron is distracted with lectures and parties and…whatever else it is that he’s doing.”

“Have you given Global Justice a second thought? That could be big for you. I mean, they work on highly classified cases, you’d be working with other professionals, and the paychecks? You could be set for life.”

Wade isn’t wrong, but Kim can’t help but to think of the last time she worked with them. And while things are… _over_ …with Monkey Fist, she doubts they would allow anything further between them. But that’s assuming he will ever reach out to her again. A fool’s wish. Not only that, but Monty had his reservations about them as well. Criminal or not, his distrust for them weighed heavy on her mind even then.

Still…how could she possibly consider him or what he thinks after he had completely…vanished? Global Justice would be the perfect way out of this misery she’s putting herself through.

“I…don’t know, Wade. I’m…not really sure I’m in the mindset to be making any big decisions right now.”

“Yeah, I get it. Still, doesn’t hurt to consider it…even if you’re not making the decision now.” There’s a long pause then, and Kim can tell he’s wanting to say something.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been keeping tabs on him, Kim. I know you said you didn’t want to know–.”

She sits up then with furrowed brows, “Wade, I _don’t_. I promise. The last thing I need is to know what he’s chosen to do while…”

 _Ignoring me_.

Kim shakes her head, “Please just…leave it alone.”

“I can tell you’re really hurt by this, Kim. I’m not trying to make things worse I’m just thinking maybe some answers might help.”

There’s a moment where she considers it, and not for the first time, either. She ultimately decides against it, not quite ready to reopen the wound that has hardly had much time to close.

“Just…call me when you have something, alright?” Kim doesn’t give him a chance to respond before ending the call and placing the device face down on her bed.

Not even moments later does it chime again, and with a hint of annoyance strung in her voice, she turns it over and beats Wade to the punch, “I mean it, Wade, please stop–.”

But it’s not Wade on the screen, and Kim shuts up rather quickly, “Oh, Betty…hi.” _Global Justice_. Their ears must be ringing, she thinks.

“Kim, it’s good to see you. I hope you’ve been doing well.”

“Well enough,” She lets out a weak laugh, part of her perking up at the thought of a mission being tossed her way, “It’s good to see you, too– how can I help?”

“There’s a couple of agents outside your house. I don’t mean to impose but…I’m wondering if you’re free for us to…chat in person.”

Kim’s not exactly up for an employment pitch as Wade suggested, but she figures it may just be worth her time rather than staying inside and putting herself through torture. With a nod of her head, she presses a soft smile and agrees, “Yeah, sure, I’ll uh…be right there.”

She sits in the back of a car by herself, staring at the two agents who don’t seem too intent on speaking to her. There’s a small part of her that considers contacting to Wade to at least let him know what’s going on, but she keeps the device off and instead enjoys the ride in silence. They take her out of town and towards the mountains, and not unlike Global Justice Style, they arrive at an abandoned gas station where an elevator takes them deep into the ground.

Business as usual, it would seem.

That is…until a voice could be heard echoing through the hallways. It sounds…angry. There is deeply unsettled feeling in her gut then, and she can’t help but to begin questioning just why it is she’s there and…what she’s walking into. The voice gets louder and louder, until finally they reach a set of double doors where one of the agents slides their keycard for entrance. Kim’s skin pales when the voice is now easily made out.

“–I will tear this place apart and _everyone_ inside of it if you don’t start answering–.”

Kim freezes as she stares at the frame of a man who she was recently convinced only existed in her mind. “Monty?” The name comes out before she can stop herself, and his outburst eases when he turns in her direction. The man she sees is almost unrecognizable. He looks… _unwell_. As if he’d not slept since the last they saw one another. His eyes are darker and his skin paler. There’s a shadow on his jaw and cheeks that is particularly heavier upon his lip and chin. Shame seizes her then, and it’s all she can do to stare at him as he slowly approaches.

“ _Possible_.” She can smell the alcohol before he’s standing right before her, twisting the knife that had already been placed in her gut. And while his tone sounds cruel, the look in his eyes suggests it may not be so honest. “I should have known **_you’d_** have something to do with this.”

“There’s no need for fronts, Lord Fiske. You don’t need to play _pretend_. We are all well aware of your activities _post_ Jindosh. Of your… _romance_.” The director speaks up from behind them, “Kim, glad you could make it.”

She can hardly stand to look at him without feeling her throat tighten and eyes water…wondering exactly what she had done to be punished as such. Still, she can’t bring herself to look away from him. Monty swallows as he stares down at her, seeing the hurt evident on her face and realizing just how much he had…ruined things.

“What the hell do you **_want?_** ” He turns around then, keeping the act up for now. For both of them, he thinks.

“Well now that you’re both here, I’m happy to share.” The woman steps forward with her hands folded behind her back. “I’ve wanted to recruit Kim for a while now but you, Lord Fiske, your addition to Global Justice alongside Kim Possible would make the perfect team.”

They’re both surprised to hear that, and before either of them can respond the director speaks again. “You see, GJ works on behalf of the people, Lord Fiske. And sometimes that means doing things that…well…may not be considered kosher. Things I’d never ask any of my law abiding agents to do. But _you?_ A master criminal who’s proved himself more useful on the right team? Well…you’re a perfect match.”

Monty scoffs as he can’t believe what it is that he’s hearing, “You…are out of your damned _mind_. I was **_right_** about you. About your…little _organization_. You’re just as bad as what you claim to fight against. Well, I’m sorry you’ve brought us all this way but…neither myself **_or_** Miss Possible will be joining you.”

“You sound so sure about that.”

Monty growls and turns around then, marching back over to Kim and taking hold of her arm, “Let’s go.”

Her arm is yanked out of his hold and Monty looks at her with surprise. She looks angry…and pained. “Kim…I know I have a lot to explain…” he’s certain she must see that all of this is some sort of ploy, and that their own issues could be dealt with once they’re both free of this place.

But Kim’s face twists into something that could only be described as _horror_ then. She looks mortified, until he realizes that it isn’t him she’s looking at. He turns around again and on the multitude of monitors displayed around the room, a picture shows of them. Monty, Kim. _Kissing_. Anger stirs within him then, as he begins to realize their private moments hadn’t been so private after all.

“That’s it? A _photo?_ ” His hands spread out as he walks towards the director, fearless in the idle threat, “Surely you’ve heard of _photoshop_.” He takes back those words when suddenly those pictures divide into many different ones. Tons of pictures and even _videos_ display now. The two of them, in intimate moments.

“You’re kidding.” He scoffs again, “You want to show the world _this?_ You’d be doing me a favor. I’d be the envy of every man and woman on this planet.”

“Actually, the photos aren’t _your_ collateral. Funny though, isn’t it? While you’d be the envy…where does that leave Kim?” Monty presses his lips at that, turning to look at Kim who holds her arms and stares with worry at the photos, “You’re a criminal. How do you think that would look to her friends…her family…the _world_ that depends on her to save them? I’d go as far as saying that these photos may just ruin her life.”

Another flash of anger then, and Monty dares to step right up to her with the sound of guns suddenly being pointed right at him. “And you think I’m just going to let you blackmail her, hm? I have money. A **_lot_** of it. Name your price.”

“I already have. A contract, with Global Justice. It’s non-negotiable.”

Monty looks back at Kim, feeling a pain in his chest as he looks upon her and realizing that this…this is his fault.

“You see, Monkey Fist, we took a gamble here. We orchestrated this– banking on the idea that…well…you wouldn’t let Kim drown. Of course, there was no way to guarantee that. So, if protecting the cheerleader isn’t leverage enough…perhaps we can entice you with… _information_. After all, you must still be curious on just who sent you that painting.”

The color drains from his face then, and his jaw clenches at a dangerous force, “What could you _possibly_ know about that?”

“We’ve been monitoring you for months. That package may not have had a return address available to _you_ …but with good behavior, we’d be happy to disclose that information.”

“You... _you_ set me up. All to work for your corrupt little agency?” All of those months descending into madness…all because some fool here was handed a _sharpie_.

“You should know better than anyone, Monkey Fist, sometimes to win you _must_ be ruthless.”

“Oh, save it. Not even **_I_** can pride myself on this sort of torment.”

“No? Not even when you set loose 121 monkeys on your own father?”

Monty’s eyes go wide and suddenly he’s…frozen.

“What…did you just say?”

“Do you know how long Global Justice has been around for, Lord Fiske? We had agents on your father’s payroll…deep undercover to document your father who was, without a doubt, the very monster you always thought he was. But all the lawyers who scrubbed the labs and tapes and _any_ evidence that the little lord had turned on his own blood? Well…they missed a few things.”

A video plays on the large monitor then, for the whole room to see. Monty, still speechless, shifts his gaze to see a hectic video. It was merely a different angle of the scene he had watched far too many times. The words are muffled this time, as the scientist watches from outside the lab. Still, he knows exactly what was said between them before his hand turns the key and slams down on to the large red button. Chaos is unleashed. The screaming could be heard.

“Turn it off.” He’s not even sure if he says those words out loud, feeling as if he is in some sort of astral state. But the video keeps playing, and blood can be seen smeared on the glass, “I said, turn it **_OFF!_** ” His voice bellows and finally the demand is met. Monty breathes heavily, feeling the veins surface in his neck and arms as he stands there trying to contain his anger and the other emotions threatening to boil over.

The whole room is silent, and the Director stands there with a smug look upon her face as she steps forward and turns her attention to Kim.

“You wanted to know so badly, and now you do.” Her attention turns back to Monty then, and a look of surprise and delight is suddenly beaming on her face, “Oh yes…and that mystical monkey power of yours…” His eyes are glowing red, but he is completely unaware as he is blinded by rage, “We looked into that, too. And it looks like our theory might have been right. Maybe you’ll get more out of this than you thought.” She grabs his jaw to observe the sudden power displayed in his eyes but the moment she does, it goes away and Monty knocks the limb off of him.

He’s cornered. They both are. They have mountains of information and evidence that he can’t possibly ignore. Neither of them can. His hands shake as he stands there…feeling completely defeated.

“If I agree... _she_ stays out of this.” A last Hail Mary that deep down he knows won’t fly.

“No. It appears your skills are only useful when working together. She sticks around, the content isn’t released, and you get the sender’s address.” She pulls a pen from her pocket then, holding it out to him. “Ah, and another added benefit? Well, you two can continue where you’ve left off,” She pauses to chuckle to herself, “Though I may have just complicated things…haven’t I?”

There is no doubt in his mind that Kim, if not before, now completely despises him. He’s not even sure he has the courage to turn around and face her. To see the disgust or the hatred he is certain is there on her face. He snatches the pen from the Director then, and snarls when the contract is brought into view, “You…are going to **_regret_** this.”

“No. I don’t think I am.”

The tip of the pen hovers over the line while Monty skims through the words on paper, hardly able to understand them with his mind and body battling hard within himself. Finally he glances over his shoulder to get one last look at Kim, and sees that she had already signed her own, handing it over to one of the agents. He dares not to look any longer and turns his head back.

With grit teeth he marks his name and tosses the pen across the floor carelessly, glaring hard at the director who looks all too pleased by his agreement.

“A smart choice, Monkey Fist. I’ll give you two a moment to catch up and... _sober up_...before we get you fitted.”

Betty leaves the room along with a few agents but the rest resume work at their stations, all while Monty and Kim stand there in the midst of a mess neither were prepared for. Monty lowers his head, trying to find his breath and the bravery he needs to face Kim. But the shame, the hurt, the anger stuns him and by the time he finally turns to address her…

She’s gone.


	13. An Act of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute since the last update, but the good news is that my delay is because I've been writing the chapters AFTER this one (including the end), so those will be up a lot sooner. anyway, enjoy!

“Do I _look_ like I use a razor from a 3 dollar value pack?” Monty snatches the plastic from the agent who stands guard at the bathroom door.

“Just hurry up.”

Scoffing, he steps back to close the door but the guard slams his arm back into it to stop him. Monty looks down at the agent with a heavy glare.

“The door stays open. We don’t want you getting any ideas.”

“Oh please, this will hardly cut through hair let alone my **_skin_**.” He turns around and heads to the mirror, making a face as he sprays the shaving foam onto his hand and begins to lather his cheeks and jaw.

The whole process feels just as prison did. Stripped of his clothes and given a uniform that represents the Global Justice brand. They even took clippers to his hair, a far more invasive experience than he had expected. Blood, prints, even dental images were taken. Monty mindlessly goes through all of it, far too distracted by the mess that had exploded in front of him.

And Kim...

He stops shaving for a moment to stare at himself in the reflection, to really _look_. Whatever she saw before...she’ll never see again. He’s a killer, an unreliable man who knows only how to lie. Who cares more for an address than he did... _her_.

Even _he_ disgusts himself.

Once finished, he picks up the vile sitting nearby and takes a sharp inhale of it. Smelling salts to kill the lasting effects of the whiskey in his system. The other contents had already been deposited into the toilet where his face had been buried for a short time. Gripping the sides of the sink, he takes a deep breath and looks upon himself one last time. Bruising starts to form around the small metal ring punched into the side of his neck. A promise of punishment that would send a current straight through him if he stepped out of line.

_‘Kim still has a brand to maintain and a far better track record than you. So, only_ **_you_ ** _will be test driving our behavioral chip.’_

The director’s words repeat in his head and all he can be grateful for is that Kim isn’t facing the same violation. He finishes dressing and walks back into the hotel room, huffing as he pulls on gloves and looks around the room. They didn’t waste any time on getting him on his first assignment, and so all that is left is the debrief.

With _her_. The ringmaster.

“She’s up on the roof. Don’t keep her waiting.” He knows they aren’t referring to Kim, but the director who’s now got a short leash on him. He makes a face before moving into the stairwell and climbing up the last few floors until he sees the final door marked as ‘Roof Access’. Pushing the door open, he freezes when he sees Kim standing at the edge and staring out to the skyline that still has a thin orange horizon across it. The wind blows at her red hair and her silhouette is like something out of a dream.

From what he was told, he would be doing this alone, which leaves him deeply concerned with why she is there in the first place.

They’ve got her dressed in the same uniform, and a mask held in her hands to cover her identity as well. Monty feels his throat tighten and he struggles to find any words to say... even when there is so much. What could he possibly do? He had vanished for months and when he finally shows up in her life again she learns the truth. The truth in which he thought was buried so far beneath the ground, unattainable for anyone. But they’re alone now, so he thinks, and he cannot remain silent forever. He crosses the roof towards her, his hand stretching out to touch her shoulder when he’s near.

“Kim, I—- AGH!” Before his hand can touch her a sudden wave of electricity is rushed through his body. His muscles seize and he falls down to his knees, growling in pain as the shock to his system renders him useless. It burns and claws at his insides, and it’s all he can do to simply endure until finally it stops and he can breathe again.

“Just testing it out. That’s only level **_1_** , Monkey Fist. Keep that in mind.” Catching his breath and grunting hard, he looks up to see the director standing over him and Kim just behind her looking absolutely horrified. Of him? Of just what Betty has done to him? He’s not quite sure.

“ _Noted._ ” He growls before standing up and rubbing the ring on his neck where a burning sensation can still be felt. His eyes land on Kim and he can tell she’d been crying. The skin around her eyes red and the whites of them glassy. Even then, she looks far more put together than he feels.

“Don’t worry, Global Justice agents can do as they please when they aren’t activated. So, you’ll have time to chit chat once the mission is finished.”

“Agents?” Monty sneers, “Why don’t you just call us what we really are: your _pets._ ”

“Delay the mission any longer and I’ll see to it that’s exactly what you are. Now, if you’re done with your fit–,” she turns and gestures to the building across from them, “in there is a man by the name of Jeremy Collins. He’s been holding hostage some classified files on a few of our agents. The job is simple enough: retrieve the files _unseen_.”

It almost sounds too simple, but it doesn’t surprise Monty that their task is to go covering up the corrupt agency. “Sounds like a one-person gig, but what do _I_ know?” He drawls sarcastically, moving to join Kim but being stopped with a firm hand to his chest.

“That **_was_** Kim’s task. One she’s already completed.” The director clarifies, reaching down to pull out a dagger that is then held out to him, “Yours…,” she steps closer then, as if not wanting the girl to hear, “is to make sure Mr. Collins rethinks just who he wants to make enemies with.”

Monty swallows hard and takes the knife handed to him. Of course, he’s stuck with the dirty work. Kim could never, and Monty wouldn’t let her. And so whatever needs to be done in the end, no matter how horrid, he _will_ get it done.

“And I guess I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you compromise your identity.”

Monty fixes the dagger to his belt and pulls on the mask that isn’t too different than that of the Jindosh’s thief which had lead the two of them together in the first place. A clever angle to protect their own identity, it would seem.

“Once you’re out, you and I will regroup at a location that will later be determined.” The director turns to Kim then, “You’re dismissed, Miss Possible. Given your lifestyle, you’ll have 24 hours to answer when you’re activated. As expected, you did some fine work today.”

“Wait– you told me we wouldn’t need to hurt anyone.” Kim steps up to them then, tempted to confiscate the knife afforded to the monkey master who is admittedly surprised by her interference.

“I said _you_ wouldn’t. You and I both know that role is far more fitting for Lord Fiske.”

She elects to ignore that comment, shaking her head and stepping closer to them both, “No one needs to get hurt–.”

The director lifts the trigger to Monty’s chip then, thumb hovering over the small button, “You’re right, well, sort of. People _do_ need to get hurt, but not unnecessarily. Understand?”

Kim presses her lips and stares hard at the woman she had once trusted. Monty can tell she wants to say something, and if there were not so much on the line for both of them, he’d be glad to hear her say it. But he stands there and quietly hopes she doesn’t make a sound, and when she nods her head and turns to walk away he can exhale with relief. Even if it means she doesn’t spare him a parting look, he knows she’s at least safe.

Of course, while Kim reaches the door to the stairs, she does turn back. Watches as the man slips on his own mask and turns to face the building she had just come out of. She has half a mind to sneak in there with him, to retrieve that knife for fear of what the director wants him to do with it. That thought only wounds her further, as she knows that the man doesn’t need a weapon to do what he needs to do.

After all, _he_ is the weapon.

——

“I’ve been trying to reach you! We got two pings and I had to send out Ron–.”

“Wade, listen to me: I’m heading to your house. While I’m on my way, I need you to double check your security, and if you can… start scanning your house for any bugs.” Kim walks briskly to the helicopter where GJ agents are waiting for her. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t contact me until then.”

“Kim, is everything–.” She switches off the device and climbs into the chopper, ignoring the agents completely and taking her seat in silence.

They drop her in a field not far from her home, and even offer a car service back to her house but she declines. She doesn’t even bother to stop inside, and instead gets in her car and drives straight to Wade’s who is sitting on his front steps waiting for her.

“Kim! Are you okay?” They meet in the middle of his yard and Kim nearly breaks as she wraps her arms around him and holds back a sob with all the strength she has. “Kim…”

They both stand there for a while, keeping each other company before finally they head inside where both sit in the kitchen and quietly enjoy milk and cookies provided by his mother. When she leaves the room, Wade washes down his mouthful and clears his throat.

“I didn’t find anything, not…anything _successful_. Someone _has_ been trying to get in though, and it must be someone good because my system hasn’t even alerted me.” He pauses for a moment, as if unsure if he should say the next words out loud, “You don’t think that… Monty…”

Kim shakes her head, somewhat relieved by that information and the green light to speak freely, but quick to set the record straight: “It’s Global Justice.”

“ ** _What?_** ” Wade makes an appropriate face, clearly just as confused as she was, “How? I mean… why would they do that? And why are you dressed like them anyway?”

“They picked me up and took me to their base. I…I thought they were going to offer me a job again, but… they’re _blackmailing_ me. They’re blackmailing _Monkey Fist_.”

“Monty… he was there?”

She nods her head, twisting her fingers together nervously, “This whole time… from the very start they wanted _him_. They were trying to recruit **_him_**.”

“He’d never go for that.”

“No, he wouldn’t. But they have something over him… an address… something about a painting…”

The look on Wade’s face shifts then, and Kim realizes that he already knows. That the information she denied him of telling her was now coming to light.

“He’s been tearing every warehouse and mail depot apart in France and England. Making sloppy work of it too, he… wasn’t in great shape. I didn’t know what he was looking for but… I think whatever was sent to him maybe put him in a spiral. We both know how he can get when he… _wants_ something. It makes sense that Global Justice is using that against him.”

She’s not sure how that makes her feel. To know that those months of silence were due to _this,_ and not the other ideas in her head that were far more cruel.

“It’s not just that.” Kim admits, “They have pictures of us. Videos. If neither of us do as they say, they’re going to release them to the public. They think it will ruin my life.”

“We both know it wouldn’t. We’ve talked about this before, your friends and family would support you.”

“But _they_ don’t know that. Mont– Monkey Fist doesn’t either.”

There’s an awkward silence then as Kim is reluctant to refer to him so personally after everything that had happened. Wade picks up on it, but instead takes a breath and decides not to point that out.

“You need to talk to him. He’ll listen to you, Kim. Tell him that those photos don’t matter. Tell him that whatever he’s looking for… it can be found _without_ Global Justice.”

She feels tears begin to build in her eyes again, and she attempts to fight them off while shaking her head, “That isn’t all, Wade. They… they’ve put something on him. In his _neck_. It’s…some sort of device. Something that shocks him when he doesn’t follow orders. I watched Betty use it on him… and when she didn’t like what I was saying she threatened to do it again.”

Wade looks just as mortified at the information, rendered speechless as he sits there with a loss for words. The bad news just keeps coming, however, and Kim’s voice shakes as she brings to light more of this new reality.

“And… they’re learning to trigger his power. With Ron it… it came naturally–.”

“The mystical monkey power? I mean we always suspected he couldn’t tap into it because well… the whole good and _evil_ thing.”

“I think it’s _more_ than that. And if they figure out a way to make him use it–.”

“We won’t let that happen. And somehow… I don’t think Monty wants that to happen either.” Wade rests a hand on her arm, giving her some comfort as she sits there and struggles to hold her composure. “Okay. _Okay_. We need to be smart about this. Right now, they think they have some pretty damaging collateral, but it sounds like this device is the only thing holding you both back. We can work with that. You two just need to keep up the pretense that Global Justice poses an actual threat. What we need to focus on is getting that device removed.” He pauses then, clearly uncomfortable with his next question, “Have you…spoken to him?”

“No.” Kim admits softly, “I can’t. Not yet.”

“I know there’s some bad blood between you two right now, but–.”

“It’s not that, Wade. I want to help him. I want to speak to him. That is my _first_ priority. But… there’s something I need to do first. You… remember when I went to his family home? When we both were looking for… well… everything?”

He nods.

“I know what happened. I learned what he wanted to keep secret. I _saw_ what he did to his father…” Kim swallows hard, seeing Wade cock his head in utter shock, “I also know there is more to it than what I saw. And before I can help either of us I need to know the full story. I need to see it.”

“And how do you think you’ll be able to do that? We’ve already tried–.”

“I have a few ideas. First, I need you to get me on a flight to England. And… there’s something else I need you to do…”

——

The next day Kim is landing in London, allowing herself some relief that Global Justice had not yet reached out to her again. Of course, it does worry her just what the result of Monty’s assignment was… and whether or not he was also free to do as he pleased now. It doesn’t take long for Kim to find the man she needs to speak to. Unlike his employer, he’s not too worried of his secrecy especially if it doesn’t directly effect Monkey Fist himself.

And so Kim is walking into a quiet bar in the late afternoon. She spots the man immediately, tending to a pint of beer at a table by himself. Carefully she approaches, and when his eyes glance up to spot her, the initial reaction is shock.

“How did you find–,” But the man pauses before sighing, “I suppose that’s a silly question, given who I’m speaking to.” Bates’ gaze lowers in what looks like defeat, and his hands cup the pint in front of him to lower his defense. Kim presses a weak smile to her lips, pushing her brows up as she carefully moves to join him in the empty seat across the small table.

“I’m sorry to bother you–.”

“I don’t know where he is. Honest. He got angry with me and I gave him the space he needed.”

Kim pauses at the sudden jump to defense, realizing Bates doesn’t know Monty’s current predicament. And while she knows she can’t lose focus, Kim decides to roll with it anyway.

“He got angry with you… about what?” She shakes her head at the wait staff who stop by to offer a drink, emerald eyes flashing back his way with a keen curiosity.

Bates’ shoulders drop as he looks upon her, and she believes it’s clear that he won’t be quick to reveal any truths to her. “Well, about _you_.”

It stunts her to be so incredibly… wrong. This whole time all she kept torturing herself with the idea that Monty didn’t spare her a second thought in the previous months. That his closest companion would do anything possible to hide his secrets. She wonders if the shock of Global Justice has thrown her off her game, or if perhaps her damaged feelings are throwing up shields that both protect and blind her.

Kim need not say anything else before he clears his throat to clarify.

“He’s changed. Or… he _was_ changing. You know, through the years that I’ve known him I’ve only ever seen glimpses of who he _really_ is. Behind Monkey Fist. Behind _Lord_ Monty Fiske. Behind all the masks he wore for every type of person out there. I’ve never seen his real face more than when… this began.” He gestures towards her, referring to their very truce at the beginning of it all. “It was upsetting to see him throw it all away. I… imagine you now know all about it.”

“Um… no actually.” Kim is a bit speechless by the sudden information, but is careful not to get distracted by it. “Monty is working for Global Justice right now. He’s… we’re both in a bit of trouble.”

“Global Justice? He’d never work for those _dogs._ ”

Kim can’t help but scoff, having heard such a comment for the second time now and once from the source itself.

“Which is why I need your help. He doesn’t want to be working with them, and neither do I. The problem is… they are holding a lot against us.”

“That’s no issue at all, Lord Fiske has Europe’s best lawyers–.”

“Lawyers won’t help us… I promise. Well, not in the way that you think. Listen, there’s not much time for me to get into it all… Bates …there’s something I need.”

The man nods his head and leans forward, keen on helping her and his very friend, “Anything… just tell me.”

“I know what Monty did that day in the labs. I saw it.”

He goes on the defensive, just as predicted, “That’s not possible. Those tapes were destroyed.”

“The lab ones, maybe, but Global Justice had an agent in there. In the video… you can’t hear what’s being said. It looks incredibly–.”

“Incriminating.”

Kim nods.

“I need the lab’s video. I need to know that what I saw–.”

“No matter the angle, my dear, you will see the same thing. It’s the context, I believe, that you want.”

“The context I _need_. Not just for me… but if that video gets out–.”

“If that video were to get out Kim, it wouldn’t hurt him anymore than what the world has watched him do already.”

“But the other videos, they could save him–.”

He shakes his head.

“They won’t. It was no accident. No last minute instinct. Monty walked into that room and he _meant_ to do what he did. And you should know that before you tell yourself that another angle would prove otherwise.” They’re both quiet for a moment, “It’s okay if it’s for you, Miss Possible. I understand. I think he would understand, too.”

Kim quietly questions whether or not her goal is merely grasping at straws, rather than helping either of them. She knows the truth of it, of course. The small part of her that fears a reality that could jeopardize not just their relationship, but the world. “I’m… afraid helping him might end up being the wrong thing to do.”

Bates frowns and nods, “I don’t think that’s what you’re afraid of.” Another short silence sits between them, and Kim knows that the man’s point is not far from the truth. Finally, he lets out a breath and nods, “Monty never told me what he did with the evidence. I have an idea of who you could ask… but Kim, once you find it, and I have no doubt that you will, you should know that what he does is not an act of hate,”

He pauses then, looking deep into her eyes as if to make certain that she hears his next words clearly, “It’s an act of _love_.”

——

**_The Next Day_ **

_Kyoto, Japan_

“I have to admit, I was surprised when you called.” Kaida sits down across from her, thanking her staff when they set tea before the two of them. “More surprised _now_ to see that my… old _friend_ isn’t accompanying you.”

Before Kim can respond, another woman rounds her seat and sets herself down beside her host. “ _Relieved_ is what she really means.”

“Kim, this is my wife, Michaela.” Kim struggles to pinpoint the accent, and is almost afraid to try as the hazel eyes of the woman bore into her own. She doesn’t look pleased with her presence and that is quickly confirmed when she speaks again.

“It’s very nice to–.”

“I dare say I’m the _sane_ partner here. A friend of Monkey Fist is not a friend of **_mine_** , so please save your breath.”

“Oh come now, dear. Kim would not have come all this way if it were not for a good reason. No matter how you feel about her, um…” Kaida pauses for a moment before looking back to Kim, “Have you two worked out yet just what you two are?”

“Uh… no… not quite. That’s partially why I’m here.”

Kim explains what she had to Bates and Wade. Lets both women, who have little love for the man in trouble, know just what danger Monkey Fist is in. There’s a moment she begins to second guess her decision to go to them. Mention of the device in his neck and the proof of their relationship doesn’t see either of them falter. Kim supposes if she were in their position, she’d lack any empathy as well.

It’s only when she mentions seeing the video that their composure shifts. Kaida’s wife turns to look at her.

“I thought there was only one.”

“I thought so, too.”

Bates’ lead was right. These two know something.

“I came here because of what you said. You’d do _anything_ to get that sword back. I figured you might have explored the option to…expose him.”

“Indeed. There were rumors about what had happened in that house all those years ago. Finding that video would have destroyed Monty’s career at the time. Sure, his lawyers could spin up a story to defend him but... he was the face of something far bigger. But... I knew that if the rumors were true... I.... couldn’t allow myself to expose it. The idea of it felt filthy.”

“Which is why **_I_** went to look for it,” her wife chips in, drawing both of their gaze’s, “I nearly found it, too. Powerful lawyers in the courtroom but... weak where it really counted. They told me Monty never gave it to them. Wanted to keep it himself. Hid it somewhere safe.”

“So neither of you have seen it... neither of you know where it is?”

“What exactly do you hope it will bring you?”

“I want to know who I’m planning to save. Because right now... it’s… a _killer_.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I always thought that you saved people... no matter who or _what_ they were.”

“I do,” Kim assures softly, “but I can’t help him the way I want to unless I know what I’m defending.”

That excuse might have worked with Bates who was too polite to say anything, but it doesn’t fool either of the women sitting across from her. She nearly sinks into her seat in preparation of what is to come, afraid to be torn right open not for the first time these past few days.

“Kim,” Kaida leans forward then, folding her hands over her knees, “What is it you’re really looking for?”

“We _both_ know what she’s looking for,” Michaela pitches in again, only she leans back and folds her arms with a knowing look in her eye, “She’s looking for a way **_out_**. This is the man you’ve imprisoned multiple times, who’s broken your trust all the same, but you’ve forgotten all of that because of a few charming smiles. It scares you… and you _like_ that. Deep down, of course, you know that this little problem of yours has just been solved. This criminal who has hurt you, the people you love, and innocents around the world has just been put on a _leash_. You were given a gift, and you’re afraid to admit it. You think that video will confirm it for you. Watching him kill his own father–.”

“Michaela, you know that’s not what happened.”

“It’s what she _wants_ to have happened. Once she sees it, she can make her decision. Isn’t that right, girl?”

She is right. And Kim is ashamed to admit it.

“What Michaela _won’t_ tell you is that she was once in a similar position. She met someone of power who wasn’t at all a symbol of kindness, and was just as conflicted. And yet they did marry, and their bond grows stronger each and every day.”

Kim relaxes a little at that, watching as the two slip their hands together in unison even if Michaela doesn’t seem as eager to agree.

“I refuse to relate the two situations.”

With a heavy breath, she leans back herself and holds her temples with thumb and forefinger. A headache grows and the guilt and conflict heavy in her chest keep her pinned to her seat. She questions her motive again, knowing deep down that just like before… she should turn back while she’s ahead. In her heart she believes them, that watching the real video won’t help him. It’s for her own selfish reasons. To potentially put an end to this madness once and for all.

He told her once that all she needed to do was ask. It couldn’t be that simple… could it?

“You know, Kim, Monty told me something in confidence that night you both came to visit.” Kaida’s voice pulls her from her thoughts, seeing green eyes flick back up to the couple before her, “And while it isn’t my place to tell you what that is... I can at least say that whatever your gut is telling you to do, you should listen to it.”

Easier said than done, but Kim offers a small smirk and is grateful for the words regardless.

“Thank you, Kaida… and you too, Michaela. Despite how you both feel, I appreciate you helping me. I… think I know what I need to do.” She rises and feels her disappointment then, having hit what feels like a dead end. Before she can move any further, she’s stopped by Michaela’s voice.

“We both know he would only leave it with someone he truly trusts, Kim. Someone who doesn’t judge him. Someone he doesn’t have to hide himself for. I have a feeling that isn’t many people… perhaps _that_ might help you.”

She nods, surprised by the sudden offer of insight by the woman who seems to hate him most. Her words resinate within her as she is escorted from the home, and soon confirms for her who should surely be her next and final visit.

——

**_The Next Day_ **

_Paris, France_

Kim stares at the store front the same way she had all those months ago. The logo bringing back a warm memory, even if bits of it are cold. It’s been days since having last seen Monty or her family who believe she’s simply on another mission. They have no idea the trouble she’s in, but deep down she knows it can’t stay a secret for much longer. And Monty… who knows what he’s up to now. What the agency has made him _do_. It worries her what she will be returning to, and more so concerns her that still she has yet to be ‘activated’ again.

With a deep breath she walks through the door, immediately catching the attention of the man who stands over a desk and looks over papers and receipts. Looking up, a grin spreads wide over his lips, and he sets his pen down before moving to greet her.

“Ah! I know _you_ …” Pierre closes in on her, stopping a couple of feet away to bow deeply, “Radiant as ever. You must tell me, were you surprised to see your dress?”

Kim smirks and thinks back fondly to the moment she found it sitting in her hotel room…and of course the night she wore it when working with Monty outside the realm of what was originally agreed upon. Their… _date_.

“Pleasantly surprised.” Kim responds, “He seemed adamant that I’d never be caught dead with it.”

“Ah, but more adamant to make you happy in the end.” He points out, and Kim finds herself flushing as he becomes another one of the many people who seem to see something that she hasn’t. Or, rather, refused to. “So, what do I owe the pleasure? Sent you off to pick out another one has he? Oh, Champagne?”

Pierre is delightfully animated, eager to usher her further into the boutique. Kim allows him to, but is quick to inform him the true reasoning behind her visit.

“I wish that was the case but… actually I’m here for something else.” The two stop and Kim turns to face him then.

“Oh?”

There’s a silence that hangs over them for a moment before she takes a step forward, “I’m here for the video.”

His brow raises, and he cocks his head while staring down at her. They both look at each other for a long while, and Kim thinks perhaps he might try to hide what she now knows is the truth. But to her surprise, he merely smiles.

“You’re a smart girl, Kim Possible. I know Monty didn’t send you here for that. He wouldn’t send _anyone_.”

And there it is. Days of searching, the damage she had caused back when she dared to break into his old home, and what she was looking for was right here all along. The first person Monty had brought into all of this. It’s almost laughable, but given the circumstance she fails to appreciate the humor.

“Did he ever tell you the story of how we met?” Pierre asks, truly curious, watching as Kim shakes her head ‘no’. “Well, just how most children meet: school. Of course, he was home schooled for a while and having no real experience with other students he… wasn’t exactly favored by the other children. He was smart. _Too_ smart. And arrogant and just… _strange_. But you know who else was just as strange?” Pierre points to himself and smirks. “Us freaks need to stick together.”

“I’d argue _all_ children are freaks.” Kim muses.

“Not like us.” Pierre almost sounds proud of that, “One of us wanted to dress beautiful men and women, and the other spoke obsessively about a hidden civilization that taught monkey kung-fu. But you know what? He never judged me for what I liked, and so I never judged him. He was a good friend to me. He still is.”

Her heart aches listening to his story, mostly out of relief and happiness that in Monty’s darkest moments he had someone there who cared for him. Someone he trusted so much that he left traumatizing and incriminating evidence with. Brows draw up at the man, and she lets out a short breath while still processing it all.

“You’ve known him longer than anyone. **_Really_** known him. But not many people know that.”

“Well, things didn’t change so match after school, my dear. He was still too smart, too arrogant, and too strange for most people’s tastes. People left him alone, and that’s the way he preferred it.” The man scoffs then and shakes his head, “I guess that’s not so true anymore, though, is it?”

It scares her a little to think that Monty, after all he had done, was pulling her into the very small circle of trust that he has. At the same time, it confirms for her that perhaps that is exactly where she wants to be.

“I guess that means you knew about his plan. Tricking me into helping him.”

“Actually, all he said was that I’d be dressing one of the most beautiful women in the world. Not that I doubt he did indeed pull some sort of trick on you in the process. That sounds just like him.”

Kim finds herself blushing at that, struggling not to get distracted by words she would much rather hear from the man himself. With a sigh, she nods her head and bites down on her lip,

“Well, I’m glad he did bring me here. It sounds like you’re a good friend, too.” She debates whether or not she should even mention the dire situation in which they both find themselves in. She’s not convinced it’s worth worrying him over something he won’t be able to control. And so Kim decides against it, and instead gets back to the point of her visit, “It makes sense why he left the evidence with you.”

“It was my idea.” Pierre admits, “No one would go to his extravagant stylist looking for any information. What would I know? I dress the man, get him tipsy, and send him on his way. But we both knew that if he destroyed it, he would erase a memory that would twist and change inside of his head. And if he held onto it, he’d drive himself crazy analyzing it every moment he got. Either way, when he needed it most he wouldn’t know what the truth was anymore. So, every so often when he comes into the city for a new suit… _well_ …”

The man gestures towards a door in the back, past the dressing room where she once stood being fitted with incredible dresses. Pierre shrugs and gives her a soft smile, completely at ease and eager to be of service to her. Behind that door is what she has been looking for, and she need only to say the words to finally have it.

“You’ll… show it to me?”

“That _is_ why you’ve come all this way, isn’t it?”

“You’re not… afraid of what I might see?”

Pierre makes a face of confusion then, “What is there to be afraid of? You know him, don’t you? I only assume that after watching it you will be yet another voice in his ear to remind him of who he was: a boy who lost his mother to a man who didn’t deserve her in the first place.”

It clicks for her then. The anger in his eyes in that video. The painting with an ugly black stroke of paint that hides the face of his father. The necklace. The loathing he had for that house. Kim stands rigid for a moment while the pieces fall together, and while her mouth runs dry she is able to force out her response,

“And that’s…what you think I will walk away with?”

“Believe me, dear. There is no other way to mistake it.” His smile fades then, and he extends his hand to her, “Well… shall we?”

——

The next day Kim is back in the comfort of her own bed. She hardly speaks a word to her parents or the twins. Doesn’t even reach out to Wade or Ron who are equally concerned over her silence.

The moment her head hits the pillow it’s hard not to hope that the previous four days had all just been some horrible dream. That the moment she wakes up all of this will be forgotten, and she will return to trying to forget the man who has poisoned her heart. Even better, she thinks, would be to wake up after calling him a few days after coming home from Paris and seeing a missed call under his name.

But she wakes up the next morning and that isn’t her reality.

She makes a soft sound and shifts in the bed, noting that her eyes still felt red and puffy from the emotional toll of what clearly was very, horribly, real. The sun ignites her room and her back, giving her some sort of comfort and safety. Finally she opens her eyes and stares at the phone on her bedside table, and all she can do is silently curse Monty for the hundredth time. For not calling her…for not telling her the trouble he was in.

Kim inhales deeply, knowing she can’t suffer in her bed forever. She needs to go to him, to tell him everything she’s learned and where the past few days have taken her. Though the moment she takes that breath in, a heavy scent is noticed in the air. It’s…like copper. Like… _blood_. It’s then that she feels the tension of her sheets, and when she finally sits up in a panic and turns to look at the other side of the bed, she sees him.

Him. **_Monty_**.

He sits on the edge of her bed, looking completely out of place amongst the environment of her room. She sees the blood on his neck and hands…and she knows in that moment that something is very… _very_ wrong. But she need not say anything, as he speaks first…his voice thick and…unlike the one she had grown to know.

“I know…you h-hate me right now…” He turns his head just enough and Kim can see the visible torment in his eye and the stained blood on his cheek. “But Kim…w-we need to find a way out of this.”


	14. The Freak Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what'd I tell ya? the next chapters would come a LOT sooner. enjoy!

He’s not sure that the red tint will ever fully drain as he stares down at the bottom of the tub. His forearm grows numb from leaning forward into the tiles, resting his head to it and remaining hunched over while the hot water runs down his back and neck. He feels sick. Listening to the screams of a man…an innocent one at that…who was being punished for something that would actually help his and Kim’s situation. A man who didn’t deserve what Monty had done to him. No one deserves it.

And he was just the first of _many_ that suffered at his hands in the previous days.

Monty is no stranger to violence, but it was always for his own reason, and even then it was somewhat… _sophisticated_. This was just _cruel_. And far more sickening after not having done such in over a year. His work had taken a turn into something a little less dangerous and far more under the radar. All having been for a purpose.

All of it… now coming undone.

Kim is waiting for him outside. He shouldn’t be taking this long, but he remains unconvinced that the blood will ever wash completely from him. The last thing he wants is to walk back out there smelling of his atrocities. Still, he manages to finally turn off the water and steps out. The only comfort to him then is the very fact being that he’s in Kim’s domain. Everything around him is hers. The air carriers her scent and now it will be latched to him as well. After drying his hair and the rest of his body, he fastens the towel around his waist and sucks in a deep breath. The cool air of her room kisses his skin, and he hopes that the promised clothes are waiting for him in time before–.

“Well, good morning.”

He comes face to face with a woman who undoubtedly resembles Kim to an absurd level. Her mother, no doubt, which leaves him standing there with skin like a ghost. His heart hammers in his chest and he feels like he’d been caught red-handed. The first instinct is to lie, or to retreat as quickly as he can out of the situation. But he remembers just what this looks like: a strange man walking out of her daughter’s bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist. There’s no escaping this.

“I was…just taking a shower…”

Now would be a really good time for Kim to step in and save him, but by the mother’s expression he’s not sure that he actually needs it.

“I can see that.”

“Ah…Kim…she–.” He struggles to find the words, as if even he could explain what was going on. He _came_ to Kim and just as he hoped, _she_ was figuring it all out.

“Relax. She’s the one who sent me up here. She’ll be back soon with some clothes. Speaking of, you can wear these for now until you’ve got something that will fit a bit better. Why don’t you get dressed and take a seat? You look exhausted.”

Exhausted? He’s completely _alert_ now. Baffled by her mother’s kindness despite finding a naked criminal in Kim’s room. He moves back into the bathroom after accepting the folded clothes and quickly begins to dress, “Ah what exactly has Kim shared with you?”

“Not much, just that you were in trouble, and by the look of your neck…I’d say that was putting it lightly.”

He reaches up to feel the ring in his neck, painfully aware of the power it holds. When he finishes he steps back out into the room and nods, “Yes. Tagged like cattle. Only this is far more…complicated.”

“And cruel. Does it hurt?”

“As much as metal being lodged into one’s body would, I suppose. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Nothing you _should_ handle.” Her mother corrects.

They both stand there and stare at each other then, and Monty feels the awkwardness settling back into the air around them.

“I know this looks bad–.”

“Let me stop you there, because I can see you’re clearly uncomfortable. Everyone in this house knows you’re here. You are a guest, not an intruder. So, with that being said…” She takes in a breath and smiles at him, “Are you hungry?”

Oh he’d _love_ to know just what Kim had told her. He’s not sure if it worries him that they know the truth, or that they’ve been fed a lie that he’s been left out on. Regardless, her mother is showing him a kindness and he’s in no position to refuse. Silently he accepts with a nod of his head before following her out of the room. He’s lead down to the kitchen, through a home he never imagined being in. His eyes cast over the photos on the walls, and keep an eye out for the girl who has yet to return. It worries him to see her again. To wonder what she thinks of him now, _despite_ her willingness to help.

Monty quietly settles down at the kitchen table, the warm glow to the house far different than anything he’s used to. It feels welcoming, and all the same strange as he sticks out amongst it like a sore thumb. Kim’s mother, who’s name he learns is Anne, prepares him a hot breakfast and tea to go along with it. He’s grateful for such kindness, but remains silent as he breezes through it.

It’s not until he feels eyes burning holes into him that he looks up and over at her. She’s studying his neck, as if trying to work something out in her head. When she realizes his attention, she snaps out of it and smirks,

“Sorry, I’m being rude staring like that. Kim mentioned what that thing could do.”

“It’s alright,” Monty offers gently, “I’m used to stares.” He waves his fingers and smirks, a little surprised when she doesn’t seem so put off by them.

“I’m a surgeon _and_ a mother. There’s nothing I’ve seen that surprises me anymore.”

They both share a smile at that, but guilt quickly creeps into his heart as he remembers just what pain he has caused her own kin. He’s not convinced he deserves the care he’s getting, and if she only knew just what was happening between them…if she had seen the same thing that Kim had just a few days ago…

A door is heard opening and closing behind him. His heart rate elevates when he hears Kim’s voice, soft and warm as she greets her mother and spares him a quiet glance.

“That was fast. Well, I see what you mean now. I’m surprised his body isn’t rejecting it.” Her mother looks back to his neck while Kim places a bag down onto the counter, containing what he hopes is form fitting clothes. “I could take a look now–.”

“Lets wait for Wade. We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.” She moves over to her mother before looking at Monty who is unable to hide his confusion. “Once Wade takes a look at it, we can determine whether or not my mom can remove it.”

Monty stiffens when she finally addresses him, careful with his response as they are very obviously not alone, “Wade?”

“He’ll be by later today, and so will my dad.”

That surprises him further, and forces his gaze to divert as if there is still something to hide while all of it seems plainly in the light.

“A genius, rocket scientist, and surgeon. You’re in good hands. Oh, I nearly forgot.” Her mother moves to collect a phone from the counter, placing it down in front of him, “I tried to clean it the best I could.”

There’s a long hairline crack right through the center of it, and a timer on display. The phone issued by Global Justice that had already seen a decade’s worth of action.

“Thank you.” He leaves it where it is, watching the timer quietly before looking up to see Kim exiting the room.

“You should go lay down. Get some rest. We have a guest bedroom or you can use the sofa in there.” Her mother gestures to the living room nearby before she squeezes his shoulder and leaves him to it.

Monty somewhat follows that advice, finding himself on the sofa in their living room but in no way falling horizontal. He rests his head back and folds his arms over his chest, closing his eyes but not letting sleep win him over. He needs to remain alert. Mentally present. At some point he will have a chance to explain himself to Kim, and he won’t let anything get in the way of that.

Kim, however, keeps her distance in the meantime. Still utterly shocked that he had appeared covered in blood and on her bed. She won’t allow herself to think about what horrid things he’d been forced to do while she was chasing yet another lead. The look in his eye when she pulled him towards her shower…it haunts her. The stench of blood was nearly nauseating, and leaving to get him clothes was an escape she found she desperately needed.

 _Especially_ after the awkward conversation between her and her mother as to why there was a super criminal showering in her bedroom.

Finally she finds the courage to seek him out hours later, after making the necessary arrangements for the evening to come. She finds the phone still sitting on the kitchen table and collects it before carefully approaching him in the living room. She’s nearly at the sofa when his eyes flutter open, a deep inhale taken as he shifts against the cushions. Kim sits beside him, quietly thinking just how surreal it is that after months of wishing he was there with her…he _is_.

The reason being far less desirable, of course.

“What’s this timer for?” She hands him over the phone where the timer continues to go down. Monty clears his throat, taking the phone and flipping it over to hide the screen from his sight.

“That’s my allowance. I need to be back at base before it hits zero.”

“How generous.” Kim deadpans and leans back, taking a moment to observe Monty quietly while he’s not looking at her. “All that blood... and yet I don’t see any injuries.”

He hesitates then, looking over his shoulder at her, “There aren’t any. Not on me, anyway.”

_Too smart. Too arrogant. Too strange._

Pierre’s words are heard in her head as she watches him again in silence. She’s tempted to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin and the blood pumping beneath it. They shaved down the sides of his head so much that she can see one of the scars her fingers once found while wrapped up in a heated kiss. But before she can reach out to fulfill her heart’s desires, she remembers how long it’s been since seeing him. The absence he had put her through with no explanation. It’s obvious by the way he’s acting that he’s somewhat aware of it. That he knows things between them are on rocky ground.

After all, they both saw that video. Saw the evidence. As far as _he_ knows, they are completely cornered.

Having both lapsed into an uncomfortable silence for quite some time, Monty finally looks over at her and takes a deep breath, “Kim-.”

“Okay you were not... kidding.” Suddenly her dad stands in the entrance of the living room, dressed in his coaching gear from the twins’ soccer practice. The energy shifts in the air and Kim can sense the discomfort between the two men.

“Dad you uh... remember Monkey Fist.”

“How could I forget? It’s not every day someone holds hostage a space station, steals a rocket, and kidnaps an astronaut.”

Her heart drops and her immediate worry is that Monty will go on the defense. Before she can even throw her dad a look, the man beside her speaks,

“Ah…I’m so sorry–.” Monty goes to get up, as if to make a proper apology, but Kim takes hold of his arm and stops him. It’s not the time or place, even if she can appreciate him wanting to get those words out.

“Water under the bridge.” Her dad presses a small smile and shifts his gaze between the two of them. He’s uncomfortable, and attempting to be as polite as possible. “Wade here yet?”

“No, he said he’d be over around dinner.”

“Alright, well let me know– is that my shirt?”

She’s both amused and mortified for Monty who turns pale at the question. Kim can’t blame her dad for his pointed comments and lack of generosity for the man, but it’s surely the last thing any of them need right now.

“I ah–.”

“He’s just borrowing it, dad. I doubt you’d enjoy his other option.”

“I can return it,” Monty insists, rising to his feet and moving to pull the shirt from over his head. Kim feels her cheeks turn read and before she can stop him, Monty stops himself as they both watch her father flinch and back up into a table at his sudden movement.

The room goes quiet and even Kim is surprised by such a reaction.

“Uh, sorry that’s…not necessary. Just… keep it.”

Monty shakes his head, lifting his hands as if to prove his innocence, “Sir, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her dad scoffs nods before finding his way out of the room, “Yeah…I want to believe that.”

Kim frowns as she watches Monty and the look on his face at such a response. She rises and moves to his side, taking his forearm and squeezing it gently, “Don’t let it bother you. We’re all a little on edge. Just… get some rest, alright?”

She gives his arm one last squeeze before she moves away from him, but his hand captures her wrist and the look in his eye speaks clearly for him. He wants her to stay, wants to continue where they were interrupted. But the sound of her brothers running through the house remind her that it isn’t the time or place, “Later.” She promises, and slips out of his grasp.

——

Wade arrives right on time. A couple of hours later when the sun has already began to set. Monty hadn’t moved from his spot on the sofa since, and while he had more than ample time to get some sleep, his mind still wouldn’t allow it. Not when he is kept so out of the loop, quietly wondering and worrying over what is happening around him. Kim distracts her parents, but how he’s not quite sure. He does manage to change into the clothes bought for him, allowing him to return her father’s and avoid putting back on the uniform which stands for something far more ruthless than he could have ever suspected.

“Hey Monty.” He hadn’t even heard the door open, distracted by his own thoughts. He looks up and rises when he sees a familiar face walking into the room.

“Wade.” He greets almost with relief, and a soft smirk is pulled at his lips. Their rapport is a strange one, but he has no doubt that there is a certain respect the two have for one another. After all, Wade had been kept in the loop from the very beginning.

“Wow, you’re uh…taller than I expected?” A humorous comment considering the boy is just that: a boy. Monty sniggers and slides his hands into his pockets,

“So are _you._ ” His joke doesn’t fall flat, thankfully, and Wade can see the humor in it. It’s nearly an enjoyable moment until he looks up and sees another familiar face coming his way.

A most unwelcome one.

“What’s _he_ doing here?” Monty stiffens and attempts to suppress a flare of rage when Ron walks in with arms folded over his chest. He’s equally displeased with the presence as well.

“Seriously? Dude, I practically _live_ here.” Ron points out, keeping his distance even while the two glare hard at one another.

“You _live_ at Bueno Nacho, don’t be ashamed.” Another face, but this one he doesn’t quite recognize. A young woman who stands at Ron’s side with a little less hate in her eyes, “So _this_ is the guy?” The girl looks him up and down, and he’s not quite sure if the face she makes is a good one or not, “Guess I can’t pass judgement.”

“Where’s Kim?” Monty looks at Wade then, deeply confused and worried at what is going on. He can stand the parents, and he can even stand Wade… But her nosy friends? Not so much.

“She’s talking with her parents. Don’t worry, this is all part of the plan. Just… try to play nice.”

His very lip twitches at the idea.

——

The sight of all four of them sharing a sofa is more humorous than Kim could have ever imagined. Monty looks miserable, sitting with his arms folded on the end while Monique, Wade and Ron chat beside him. The moment she walks in, Monty perks up as if being saved by his personal hell.

“We’re ready in the garage.” Kim greets, stepping aside and watching as Wade leads Ron and Monique out of the room. Monty remains on the sofa, watching with eyes narrowed and attempting yet again to put the pieces together. When he finally rises to follow the others, he swiftly turns and blocks the door before Kim can get by. A move she doesn’t expect, but doesn’t at all surprise her.

“What’s going on?”

Kim exhales softly, “I’ll explain soon. You just have to trust me.”

“I do.” Monty takes hold of her wrist before she can think about passing him, “But does **_he_** need to be here?”

She doesn’t need to question who he’s referring to. Bringing Ron here was a risk to the whole thing, knowing that Monty wouldn’t respond well to his presence. In that same moment Kim is reminded of that day, where Monty stormed up to her and demanded that they both leave before submitting to Global Justice’s wants. She remembers feeling absolutely appalled by him, the man who had been absent from her life with no warning.

She didn’t owe him anything then, and she doesn’t owe him anything now.

“He _doesn’t_ need to be here.” Kim confirms, twisting her hand out of his grip and meeting his eyes, “But he actually shows up when I need him.”

Monty’s lips part at that response. Kim’s intention isn’t to hurt him, but to remind him exactly where they’ve left off regardless of the day’s small pleasantries. She hates the part of her that immediately wants to apologize, but she doesn’t allow herself to do it. The man nods his head, accepting those words even if it does visibly sting him. 

“Okay.” He retorts evenly, “I deserve that.”

With a gentle sigh, she lets go of those emotions just as she had the moment she saw him in her room. For now, they’ll need to wait.

“Come on.” She moves past him successfully, looking over her shoulder to make sure he follows, “They’re waiting for you.”

They head into the garage where a section of it is more or less a small lab. All eyes are on him as he steps in after Kim. It feels surreal to be surrounded there by her friends and family, none of which have any warmth for who he is. Wade pats the table in the center then, giving him a crooked smile.

“Ready when you are.”

Sucking in a breath he walks over to the table and takes note of the devices nearby that begin to worry him. Tools that may need to be used on him. Of course, he’s open to trying anything if it means getting the device out of his neck.

“Uh, you mind?” He looks down at the finger being pointed at his shirt then. Blue eyes flash toward Kim, feeling awkward that he’s being exhibited when he’s not even done so much for her in private. She nods her head to encourage him, and slowly his hands come up and begin to unbutton the shirt.

He pulls it off of his shoulders and elects to ignore Monique’s comment that can be heard in her whisper towards Kim, “You sure he doesn’t have an Instagram?”

“Can we make this quick?” Monty requests under his breath to Wade who helps position him on his side.

Anne joins moments later once Wade starts to scan the area of his neck. Her fingers, now dressed in latex gloves, gently push into his flesh mostly near his shoulder and spine.

“There’s nothing attached to the spinal cord.” Anne points out, “That’s good news, Monty.”

“Followed by bad news. Looks like there _is_ a fail safe. They built it to be injected and removed by the same tool.” Wade sighs and takes a step back from him.

“We could try overloading it, and let the insides burn up.” Her dad points out while observing the schematics on Wade’s device.

“That could kill him.” Wade responds, seeing Kim shift uncomfortably at the thought.

“If there’s a mechanism that releases, I might be able to replicate what the device does and see if it doesn’t come out.” Anne suggests, joining in the small circle as they begin to discuss their options.

“Without having the device, we can’t be sure what or how it works. One wrong move and… we don’t know for sure what that will trigger.” He can appreciate Wade’s professionalism, even if the news isn’t good. Monty continues to lie on the table, quietly thinking how lucky Kim is to have these people in her life.

“Okay, what are the other options then?” A strange question coming from her father who seemed unsettled at his presence before. Why would they want to help someone they fear so much?

“I’ll say what everyone’s thinking: Monkey Fist got himself into this mess, and Monkey Fist can get himself out of it.”

“Ronald.” Both her parents shoot him a look, while Monique elbows him hard in the ribs,

“Ron!”

“What? It’s the truth. No one wants to hear it, but he let them do this to him for _whatever_ reason– and if he wants it undone, then that’s up to **_him_**.”

“Think what you want about him, Ron, but he doesn’t deserve to be wearing a shock collar. Even if he let them do it, the fact is: he wants it out _now._ We shouldn’t need to question that.” Monique defends.

“Listen, I may not agree or like this situation, but there’s gotta be a way we can help–.” Her father steps in but the moment he does, an argument ensues.

The room battles back and forth over whether or not they should help him, and if it’s even possible to do so. Monty sits up on the table, looking to Kim who meets his eyes and watches him silently. The two briefly share a look amidst the madness and with a deep breath, he gets to his feet and puts an end to it.

“He’s right.” Monty gets their attention then, silencing the room as they all turn to look at him, “This _is_ my fault. I’ll deal with it. The less people involved…the better. These people will go as far as possible to get what they want,” He grabs for his shirt and pulls it back on, “No one here is exempt from their cruelty.”

“Monty, if there’s a chance–.” But Wade stops before Monty can interrupt him, seeing on his face that there is no changing his mind.

“The device they used is the only thing that will get it out without killing me. That is the only option and only _that_ can be done by me.” He looks around the room then before exhaling deeply, “Sorry to have wasted your time.”

And with that he exits back into the house with fingers fastening his shirt. Kim rises and just as she does, Wade steps forward.

“We’ll keep looking at all options. Regardless of what he says, there’s still a way we can help. I know there is.”

“I do, too.” Kim smiles softly before nodding towards the door, “I’ll go talk to him. Uh… maybe keep the group occupied?”

It’s her way of asking Wade to make sure their conversation goes uninterrupted, and as expected he agrees and watches as she makes her way out of the garage.

Monty isn’t hard to find. He’s a man of isolation, and so when she spots him on the deck in quiet solitude, she’s not at all surprised. She steps through the sliding glass doors and into the chilly night air. The man’s back is to her as he leans over the railing, staring out into the yard and towards the line of trees where a lake sits behind it.

A few steps forward and he addresses her without making a move, “They all know… don’t they?”

He doesn’t sound angry or disappointed. They both know what he’s referring to. If anything, he perhaps sounds relieved that he’s figured it out. Figured out why he was just in a room with all the people in her life that she cares about.

“They do.” Kim confirms softly, moving closer to stand beside him, but keeping a safe distance between them for now. “Betty said a lot of things that day, Monty. Not all of it was the truth. She underestimated the love my friends and family have for me… and hopefully now you can see that, too.”

“One piece of collateral out of the way.” Monty concludes quietly while nodding his head. He sets his jaw and squeezes his fists together as they hang over the deck before he turns his head to look at her, “I wouldn’t have let her–.”

“I know.”

And she does know. She knows that regardless of what he said in the moment, he wouldn’t let those photos and videos get out. He wouldn’t let them hurt her. Monty looks away again and shakes his head.

“Why did you want me to keep it a secret? I would have taken it to my grave if you asked me to.”

“I didn’t know what you wanted from me then, Monty. I _still_ don’t. But at the very least I know that… you’re not against me.”

He nods again.

“So you took back your collateral. You’re ahead of it. I should feel happy for you, but I can’t help but to feel like you’ve made things worse for yourself. They’re good people. I don’t want you to lose that.”

“I won’t.” Kim promises, offering a gentle smile, “They’ll give you time… and you should do the same. I think you might be surprised.”

Monty straightens up then, his tongue pressing at the inside of his cheek, clearly struggling to get out what is occupying his mind. Finally he turns fully to face her, his brows drawing together,

“Listen, Kim…” he shakes his head, stepping closer to her, “What you saw the other day…”

“What I saw was only half of the truth.”

That surprises him, and he doesn’t hide the way his brows furrow and head tilts. As if he had not heard her correctly. Kim wets her lips and looks away for a moment before she elaborates.

“I did what you hate most: went digging where I shouldn’t. Only this time I think I had every reason to. I asked around for help. Bates… Kaida…” she pauses for a moment, sucking in her lips, “Pierre.”

She somewhat expects him to be angry, the same way he’d been when he found her in his house. But what she sees is shock, and then shame. He can’t quite settle on one emotion, especially as he battles the hundreds of questions bubbling in his head. It’s a few moments where he can even think to respond, swallowing hard and looking away from her,

“You watched the video.” He confirms out loud, shaking his head as if angry with himself, “I’d rather you had heard it from me.”

“I do, too.” She retorts, “But… I _didn’t_ watch it. I… didn’t need to. So one day…when you’re ready… you can still tell me.”

That surprises him further, seeing his eyes narrow as he stares at her, searching for any visible deceit.

“I know you aren’t a killer, Monty. You’re not this monster your past might make you out to be. You’ve got demons just like the rest of us. Yours are just… scarier and… a little meaner.” She chances a very small smirk before his eyes go back to her own.

“It feels more complicated than that.”

“Because _you_ make it complicated. Everyone I’ve met, everyone I’ve spoken to… they all see you the same way. They all want to help you, no matter what you’ve done to them. As scary as it is… you just… need to learn to trust people. The _right_ people. Who would do anything for you.”

Monty scoffs, “I’ll say it again, Kimberly… it feels more complicated than that. That dinner with Kaida… what I said to her…” he pauses for a moment, as if he’s not sure he can reveal his truth, “I admitted that… I wanted to change. I wanted to be better. I **_want_** to be better.” He corrects himself with a little more confidence, “but at every turn or inconvenience or road bump…I fail. Even if everyone I have ever wronged forgives me… I fear I will never change. That this will stay the same.” He points to his chest, right where his heart should be.

But Kim disagrees, shaking her head and lifting her hand to place it over the one at his heart, “This… has always been in the right place.” She lifts her hand higher then tapping his head, “It’s this you need to convince. And as hard as that is… I know you’re capable of doing it.”

Monty scoffs, “You don’t hate me?”

“Not even a little.”

The man chuckles then, and an uncontrollable grin grows wide on his face, “I’ve figured it out. You’re just as crazy as I am.”

_‘Us freaks need to stick together.’_

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re less crazy than you think you are.”

The smile he gives her could keep her pleasantly warm through the rest of that cold night. He takes one step closer to her, and lets the back of his fingers curl against her cheek, “Where were you 15 years ago?”

Kim nearly laughs, “You _really_ want to know?”

“Not really. I’m putting the age-crisis off for another day.” He lets out a sigh and looks her up and down, “I imagine once I leave you’ll get an earful of it.”

Kim shakes her head and smiles, “Not the age thing, but the… everything else.”

“Yes, well…speaking of the everything else…” his hand trails down to her chin, collecting it between his fingers.

“We’ll figure it out. As soon as we find a way to get this thing out of your neck.” She goes to move away from him, but his hand catches her before she can make it too far. She knew this would come, and when he pulls her back to him with arms that secure her to his front, Kim places her hands on his chest to keep things neutral.

“I’m ready to figure it out _now_.” His voice is low and his fingers firm. Kim knows what comes next and as much as she would love to accept those lips as he leans down to collect her own, she pulls her head back enough to make her point.

“ _I’m_ not.” Her response is soft and honest, leaving Monty thoroughly confused as he stands there keeping her warm in his hold. “You... lead me on and then vanished for three months. You... made me feel like a fool.”

“Kim, it wasn’t like that... I... was going through something.” Monty struggles to defend himself then, as if suddenly remembering what he had done.

“I believe you, Monty. I believe you _now_ but... I was really hurt. I’m... still hurt.” It pains her to see how hurt he looks now that she is finally addressing it. That while things may be good between them… they are not the same. Not right now.

“I had no intention-.”

“I just.. need some time, okay?”

“I promise you whatever you’re thinking-.”

“I’m thinking that all you needed to do was call me. To tell me that you needed your space.” She carefully removes herself from his hold, seeing the look of guilt and shame evident on his face. “This isn’t punishment, Monty. I just... don’t know that I’m ready for that to happen again.”

“It won’t. And you’re right. You deserved more from me. You still do. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Like I said, let’s just worry about helping you first.”

“We’ll have to worry about that another day.” Monty retorts as he pulls the phone out of his pocket and shows her the screen. “I need to get back.”

The sight has he shoulders drop with exhaustion and disappointment. Nodding her head, she bites down on her lip and looks back towards the house.

“I’ll drive you.”

——

He spares the rest of them the awkward ‘goodbyes’ and heads to collect his things while Kim waits in the car outside. Tempted to get a good look at her room and belongings before departing, he wastes no time in getting his things and heading straight out the door. Before he can reach her car however, a voice stops him.

“Fiske.”

Monty turns around to see her father standing in the doorframe with a hand in his pocket. Looking back to the car, he gestures to Kim that it’s alright when he suspects that she’ll want to get out and make sure no sour words are exchanged. She closes the door and nods, letting the two have whatever moment needed.

“We raised a strong woman… the ‘girl who can do anything’.” Her father states with a wide grin, walking down the steps and up to where Monty stands. “Her whole life is danger and she’d have it no other way.”

Monty’s grip tightens on the duffle bag in his hand, not quite sure what her father is getting at.

“But as her _father_ … no matter what she does or where she goes… she’ll always be my little girl. And I’ll always worry about her.” Suddenly, there’s a movement of his hand that happens just beneath his eye line. Monty subtly holds his hand out and accepts whatever it is her father is discretely passing to him. “My point is… the people who are good for Kim are the ones who will look out for her and are okay with the fact that they’ll probably never need to.”

“What is this?” Monty slips the tiny device into his pocket, curious about the secrecy when his words almost contradict such an act.

“You’ll figure it out.” His hand lands on his shoulder and gives it a strong grip of assurance.

He nods and accepts the exchange for what it is. Turning his back, he takes a few more steps before pausing and looking back over his shoulder to her father who stands there and watches him.

“You know, I worry about Kim, too. If not as much as you do, **_more_**.” He tries not to come too defensive, but he will get his point across just as well, “She’s safe when she’s with me.”

He’s surprised when her father smiles at that, “Why don’t we leave that conversation for another day. Take care, Monty.”

——

The drive is long and quiet. Soft music plays but it’s too low to distinguish. Monty’s head rests against his hand that’s propped up against the window. Distracted and exhausted by the day’s events, while Kim is focused on getting him back on time. She also knows that while things feel less tense now that they’ve finally spoken, it doesn’t solve for the heap of problems still on their plate.

Not much has changed for them. Neither are any closer to their freedom. And now, she’s leading him right back into his cage.

A couple of hours later they pull into the abandoned gas station that acts as a cover to the entrance of the base. Monty stirs and lets out a breath when he sees where they are, but makes no effort to move.

“How much time?” Kim asks him, watching as he turns the phone for both of them to see.

“Thirteen minutes.”

Kim nods, resting back in her seat and turning off the engine. Nothing needs to be said for both to mutually accept that they’ll cut it as close as they can. They’ll enjoy these few short moments alone, even if in silence, before they need to part.

“There’s no rule that says you can’t come in with me.” Monty suddenly suggests, looking over at her to gauge a response he suspects won’t be in his favor.

Kim smirks and shakes her head, “I’m not sure I could keep it together if I happen to see her face.”

“Maybe that’s just what you and I need. Team up and take on the whole damned place.”

“Believe me, I would... but there’s too much at stake. I have a feeling this is more powerful than we’re giving it credit for.” She reaches over to trace her finger around the metal ring lodged into his neck.

They’re both quiet for a moment, staring at one another. A silence fit for a kiss, but Kim had made it clear earlier just where she stands on that. Still, her hand moves over his neck, into his hairline where fingers thread through black roots. The tips of her fingers massage his scalp, and find that small scar where she traces over it gingerly.

“I’m an absolute idiot.” He breathes out as he stares at her, watching Kim grin in response.

“Yes,” Kim agrees softly, struggling to fight the smirk on her lips, “You are.”

Another void of silence as they watch each other, and slowly Kim’s smile begins to vanish. Her brows push together as she remembers just who and what she’s sending him back into. With a shaky breath, she’s unable to hold back the one thought that has haunted her for months,

“You should have answered my calls.” Her voice cracks, almost with the rest of her. She sucks in her lips and looks away, tears beginning to sting her eyes.

“I know.” His hand peels hers away, keeping it warm within his own and drifting his thumb over her knuckles. His other hand joins in to cup it, holding it still while he leans down to press his lips to the delicate skin there. Kim fights to hold back her emotions while he kisses her hand, and when he stops she grits her teeth and feels a tear escape down her cheek.

“I should go.”

Kim bites down on her bottom lip and nods her head, “Yeah.”

They both stare at each other... another few moments of a silence that they both know should be filled with something else. Kim watches as he lets out a breath and moves to open the door.

“I’ll see you soon.”

The warmth of his hands leaving hers sees her whole body frigid. Her heart sinks when the door closes and and he heads towards the base entrance. He looks back once, meeting her gaze, before he disappears into the incognito front.

——

He walks down the hall, ignoring the agents in which he passes. Their eyes follow him, just as they had been doing for far longer than he had known. One of them goes out of their way to check his shoulder while walking by. Monty growls and shoots them a glare but lets it go. He’s powerless here, and they all know it. He walks into his room and closes the door behind him, leaning his head against it and feeling the device buzz in his pocket. The timer has reached its end. Soon, he will be called for another task. An impossible thought when his heart and mind are both preoccupied with the girl he’s caused more harm to than any of his targets put together.

Monty pushes himself away from the door and moves further into the room. His hands start to unbutton the top of his shirt and he slows down when the exposure of his skin wafts a familiar scent. He’s reminded of where he spent his morning…his whole _day_. In the presence of Kim. It might just be the only thought that will get him through the night. A thought he’d need to return to when suddenly the door is heard opening behind him. He turns around completely alert, expecting there to be an agent or the director herself coming to fetch him for his next mission.

But neither is who he sees closing the door and stepping into the room.

His lips part and he’s found utterly speechless. Kim stands near the door with her hand wrapped around her wrist, as if she’s uncertain of her decision. The monkey master finds himself at a loss for words, mostly afraid that whatever he will manage will scare her off. So he keeps quiet, watching and waiting until finally Kim moves towards him.

It becomes clear that neither of them need to utter a word. She’s only a few steps away when Monty realizes why she’s there. They sync up immediately, and his hands are picking her up to help her get to his lips as fast as she can. Their kiss is desperate and hands feverish. Her legs wrap around him and within a few short moments he drops them to his bed.

Not for the first time that day, the need for sleep is happily ignored.


	15. Slack in the Leash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the patience on this one y'all. it's been a crazy few weeks for me -_-. part of that has also been writing the sequel to my first KimFist story (Tomorrow's Sky) which I'm totally excited about and if you love hurt and angst and KimFist, I def suggest putting yourself through the pain that fic will bring. also!!! this story is literally...like...so close to being finished. Next chapter should be the last unless I decide to do an epilogue. so thanks for those who have been following this and I hope that as things come to an end, you find it fitting/satisfying at the very least
> 
> enjoy!

She hates to leave him like this.

Finally having found sleep beneath the slow tracing of her fingers over his chest. So calm now after the trials he’s just put her through. Emotionally, mentally, and now physically. A blush creeps over her cheeks as the throb between her thighs acts as a reminder of the threshold they’ve just crossed. For the life of her she couldn’t remember what lead her down into the base to seek out the man now tattooed into her skin by the touch of his hands and mouth. But when her eyes cast over his sleeping form, the reason seems clear even if no words could explain it.

Months ago when the two were fighting off robotic sentinels and slipping into high societal parties, she could safely say that she didn’t see this coming. It was a small and controversial thought burrowed deep in the back of her head, the image of him on top of her with that toothy animalistic grin. A reality now, but the look in his eyes were far more fierce and no grin was present as he appeared determined to make her decision a worthwhile one. Arrogant and self-centered was the cloak he wore and showed off to many, but in that bed was a man who’s every move was made for _her_.

As her hand draws away from his skin, she can feel the sore joint of her wrist where mutated hands had captured her own and kept them where he wanted. Pinned to the bed, twisted carefully behind her back, or merely guiding them and her to do just as he pleased. A puppet master of sorts; truly an expert and all Kim could do was follow his lead and hope she obeyed to his satisfaction. If not to wake up against the warmth of his body, she’d stick around simply to make sure she hadn’t disappointed him.

But she needs to go. Needs to get out of this place. Carefully she pulls away from him and she’s certain if he hand’t been so sleep deprived, he would have woken to stop her. Carefully she toes across the floor to collect the discarded clothes, pulling them on and keeping an eye on Monty who’s still deep in sleep. Moments later she makes her way out of the base and back into her car where she sits there and takes a deep breath. It feels wrong to slip out with no word and leave him to the monsters keeping him there. Somehow she thinks he’ll understand… _hopes_ he will.

It’s a week before she finds herself back at that very base.

A week of silence from Monty who she has no doubt is being kept busy by the agency. She had been busy herself, heading to Canada for a mission Wade suggested she take to keep busy and her mind off of things. The moment she returns a similar timer is activated on her phone. 24 hours, but Kim gets there within the first few. Her eyes are peeled for Monty as she walks the halls, ignoring all of the agents and staff who greet her. Once in the control room, she’s met with another operative in placement of Betty, debriefing her on the mission ahead. This time reconnaissance, collecting evidence on a government official in Chicago.

 _Blackmail_ , no doubt.

She has a mind to ask about Monty and his whereabouts, but decides against it. She imagines the more she speaks the more ammo she gives them. And so she takes her file and heads to a locker room where her uniform and gear wait for her. A deep breath is taken before she opens the one belonging to her, setting her own devices into it first, as per protocol. It’s at that very moment that she feels the air in the room shift. Someone’s in there with her. Kim swallows hard and discretely reaches into the bag still within the locker. She takes hold of the firearm afforded to her by the agency, one that has no lethal capability but settings for a strong taser and tranquilizer.

Once her thumb switches the trigger to taser, she turns around sharply and points the gun at the intruder who leans up against the middle row of lockers nearby, a somewhat safe distance away. Of course, when she sees who it is, she remembers there is no distance safe enough from him.

“If you use that you better not miss.”

Kim lowers the gun with an exhale, setting the device down and looking to him apologetically, “Sorry. Hey.” She rounds the bench carefully, getting a good look at the man who looks both parts tired and… wary. “Are you okay?”

She walks up to Monty, wondering if she’s stepping into the space of a dangerous animal while doing so. But he allows it, and lets out an exhale through his nose.

“Shouldn’t I be asking _you_ that?” They’re both quiet for a moment, and Kim feels that same guilt bubble in her chest the way it had when she had left him that night. She knows that’s what he’s referring to, and doesn’t pretend it’s anything else but that.

“Monty, I’m so sorry I left–.”

“I’m not offended you left, Kim.” He stands up tall then, dropping his arms from his chest and moving closer to her, “I was concerned. _Are_ you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Kim gives him a smile, resting a hand on his arm and keeping it there, “I don’t know how you can sleep in this place, but I really didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Well the theory still needs some testing but… it’s a lot easier when I’m not alone.” His hand finds her hip and drags her closer until he’s able to comfortably fit his arms around her, “Next time you plan on leaving, tell me. Alright?”

Kim scoffs and grins up at him, her hands resting on his arm and chest, quickly remembering his warmth and the safety she feels when in his orbit, “ _Next_ time?”

Finally she pulls a smile out of him; a delicious one that she’d no doubt attempt to devour if not for the situation at hand, “Next time.” He whispers the words of assurance while leaning down and finding her lips with ease. She lets out a soft hum and when he presses harder to find entrance between her lips, she gives it to him willingly.

They stand here for a time, reacquainting themselves after a long week of silence, and Kim is tempted to forget all else and enjoy this moment as long as she can, but she’s forced to break the kiss and push out of his hold. She flashes him an apologetic look while going back to her locker and retrieving the uniform.

“Have they sent you anywhere?” She asks over her shoulder, hearing him begin to pace the room slowly.

“You don’t want to hear about that, Kim.” Those words are more ominous than they have any right to be.

“I’d rather hear it from _you_ than find it myself.”

“Well I don’t want you to go doing that either.” Kim turns to look at him while holding the clothes, “Don’t go looking for anything. I promise you won’t like what you find.”

They both know that’s not something she can abide by. Global Justice is sending him out to do unspeakable things. Things that she will find out about sooner or later, and she somewhat hopes it acts as a fire beneath her to make sure she keeps trying to get them out of all of this. Turning back around, she begins to undress knowing it’s pointless to ask to do so alone… even if it’s still somewhat uncomfortable for her to be so vulnerable beneath his gaze.

“We need to find that tool, Monty.” Kim says after a few moments of silence, pulling up her pants and fastening the front of them.

“We will.” His voice sounds closer, and so it isn’t too much of a surprise when his knuckles are felt tracing the length of her bare spine, sending a wave of goosebumps over her skin. “They don’t give me enough time to do much here besides eat and sleep–.”

Suddenly the door opens and a couple of agents walk in, eyeing the two of them as they walk to their respective spaces. Monty rounds her to give her some privacy while she finishes dressing, a move that Kim is grateful for. “They’re sending me to Canada… but when I come back, if they give you time again… you know you can come by, right? We have a spare room. And you’ll have better food and a bed than you’d get here.”

“I’m sure this is all just as overwhelming for your parents… perhaps it’s best if I keep my distance.” And before Kim can argue that point, he takes a breath and raises his brows at her, “And I **_know_** you didn’t tell them, Kim. That you’re _also_ working here.”

“Monty, they would freak out.”

“They’d blame it on _me_ , you mean.”

“It’s better they don’t know. And I promise you can come by whenever you want.” She steps up to him, smoothing a hand over his stomach and drawing her brows together, “Just… try not to come covered in blood, okay?”

She’s finished putting on the last of her gear as she stands before him, realizing that yet again there’s no certainty of when they’ll see each other next, “I have to go.” Kim offers, her gaze shifting to the two agents who keep to themselves but still feel too intrusive to her liking. Her attention is pulled back to him when Monty takes her chin and moves her head to meet his gaze instead.

“I’m going to get you out of this.” A promise.

“That doesn’t happen _without_ you.” A reminder.

She reaches up to cup his neck, gently tracing the ring upon it.

Monty leans down to kiss her one last time before she slips away from him, leaving him standing there and watching her move out of the room. Looking over, he sees both agents staring at him before caught and going back to their business. With a sigh he leaves the room and heads back to his own. The bed calls to him upon entering, but instead he heads over to the desk where he opens the top drawer and retrieves the small square-shaped device that Kim’s father had handed him. Seven days and he still has no clue what to do with it. He was tempted to tell Kim, but he imagines there’s a reason her father never mentioned it. So, with some frustration, he tosses it carelessly back into the drawer.

And so they continue to play their roles in the weeks to come, and seldom find time for anything else. Kim had suspected this would happen. Keeping one of the two of them constantly busy; keeping them both separated as much as possible. It makes planning anything difficult, and more than that, makes simply dealing with their reality nearly impossible when they can only exchange a few words in passing, or a stolen kiss when a hallway or room was found unoccupied. The argument could be made that Betty isn’t holding up her part of the deal, that the two of them could continue as they were while working here. But Kim knows better than to risk pointing that out, knowing it could mean a head full of volts for Monty who had already triggered such a result one too many times already.

Wade seldom offers any good news anymore. His attempt to find the schematics for the tool used on Monty’s neck is futile. Helping either of them out of their situation nearly becomes an impractical mission that requires the focus none of them currently have. Her parents, mostly her father, constantly ask about Monty and why he’d not yet taken up the invitation to return even if it is for a quick meal. She knows they struggle with this new truth far more than they let on, but she wishes he could see how willing they were to accept and help him. Even _they_ had reached out to colleagues of theirs who might have ideas on the situation they try to keep as vague as possible.

A month later and they’ve still come up short.

She feels desperation truly hit when she’s tucked in a corner with the man after having been handed another case, and Kim throws him the idea of asking Drakken for help. Monty declines without giving it much thought, intent on _not_ bringing more people into this– especially those who held a grudge against either of them. The monkey master appears far more optimistic despite being the one with the device lodged into his neck.

_‘We’ll figure it out.’_

She would grow tired of hearing him say that if not relieved that he was in front of her and able to speak the words in the first place. Little does she know that Monty had been playing a _different_ game.

In the weeks that followed his loyalty to the agency, albeit forced, was tested. He was put through the ringer with every case, forced to commit atrocities he’d have never considered even whilst in his depths as Monkey Fist. But Monty passed these tests with flying colors, and he learned quickly that that the less he fought, the less he questioned or projected, the better. More cases for him meant less for Kim, and the quicker and more efficient they were done, the more time he had to intercept Kim in the base. He had completely cut off all communication to Bates and anyone else who had been looking for him. Wholly locked in to his new life where Kim served as the only link to anything normal.

By the end of the second month, Monty becomes their top agent.

Keeping to himself still, his treatment by the other operatives improves. Of course, he’s still the criminal on a leash doing the dirty work, and there are many there who will only ever see him as such, but there are others… where it _counts_ … that don’t. A technician who tacks on extra timeto his allowance, a handler who makes certain he’s eating well on missions and another who unknowingly keeps him in the loop regarding other agents and their own work. _Gossip_ , is what Kim might call it. He’s collecting information, and carefully lowering the guards of those working closest to him. It’s all he can do, for now.

It’s nearly autumn now. Monty had just come back from Russia, and waits in the corridor outside the control room with arms folded over his chest. Waiting, just as always, for Kim to exit the room with her next mission. And when she does, he stands up straight and meets her halfway. “Where to this time?”

“Las Vegas.” She lets out a breath, letting him move them out of the way and towards the wall, “Something about a hard drive.”

“When do you leave?”

“Tonight.”

Kim is exhausted. Burning the candle at both ends with her work outside and inside of Global Justice. Even as she stands there her head rests to the wall, fighting a losing battle with her body that is struggling to keep up.

“A city that never sleeps seems like the last place you need to be.” His hand moves up to tuck hair behind her ear, before it slides to cup the side of her neck.

Kim smiles and bites down on her lip while she watches him, “That’s an understatement.”

“I’ll go talk to her.” The very idea alerts Kim and before Monty can move, her hands grab for his wrists to stop him.

“No no, Monty, it’s okay, I can do it. You don’t have to do anything. Please? I’ll be fine.”

A lie. But she worries that any fight, no matter how minor, would only cause them more trouble. And so Monty exhales and rolls his eyes before nodding his head.

“Fine. Go home. Get some rest before you come back.”

Kim is a bit surprised he doesn’t put up more of a fight, but relieved nonetheless. With a soft sigh she steps into his space and presses up onto her toes. Monty is there to meet her kiss, forcing himself to keep it level before he ends up keeping her there for the rest of the day.

“I’ll see you later.” She whispers over his lips before kissing him once more. She slips out of his hold and looks back at him once more before disappearing out of the base completely.

Monty waits a few moments before his eyes look to the door of the control room and his feet carry him off in that direction. Upon entering, he sees Betty standing at the platform where multiple desks sit. She turns around to face him as he walks further into the room, watching the smirk on her face grow into a grin.

“Monkey Fist.” She greets, “you’re not currently assigned for anything… so, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

He slips his hands into his pockets, trying to appear as… _professional_ as possible. He’ll play their game, just as they’ve been wanting him to do.

“I’d like for you to give me the Las Vegas case.” He gets right to the point, before forcing a smirk, “Even _Kim Possible_ has her limits.”

“And _she_ told you this?”

“As if she would _ever_ admit to weakness.” Monty scoffs, “No. She’s leading a double life. If she doesn’t get adequate rest, she won’t perform to the necessary standards.”

“Necessary standards for _who?_ ”

Monty knows what she’s doing. Pressing buttons. Trying to get a reaction out of him while he’s playing pretend. And so he inhales and clears his throat, retaining his composure for the sake of KIm.

“For Global Justice.”

“I’m not giving you the Las Vegas job, Monkey Fist.”

It’s the expected response, but at least he could say that he tried. But before he can accept the answer and be on his way, she adds in a last few words, “I’ll pass it along to another agent.”

That shocks him. His head tilts to the side and for a moment he fears for what he will say next… as if it might undo what she’s just agreed to.

“You will?”

“You’re right. I often forget what she’s capable of. Overworking my top agents isn’t in my best interest.”

Confused and still worried he could ruin this, he takes a step back and looks over his shoulder at the door. “I’ll… let her know.” He hesitates before he goes to turn and leave, not wanting to push his luck, but her voice stops him yet again.

“What’s wrong with you, Monty? Something is... _different_.”

Monty comes to a halt and tongues the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes and taking a breath before turning back around to stare at his boss.

“Nothing is wrong.”

“Maybe _that_ is what’s different. You seem... complacent. Happy. Things going well with Kim, I assume?”

A few steps forward and Monty shakes his head, “Listen, I appreciate your decision but don’t _pretend_ like you care. It doesn’t suit you.”

“It’s kind of sweet... this... _effect_ she has on you.”

“Are we done here? I’m not going to discuss my love life with you. You’ve got it all on hard drive around here anyway, don’t you?”

“No need to get defensive. I just think that... if you’re up to it... perhaps there’s an opportunity to... revisit the terms of your contract. That is, ** _if_** you’re interested.”

The conversation continues to make turns that he’s not exactly prepared for. He’s at a loss for words in those few moments and feels it would be foolish to storm out now even if that’s exactly what he’d like to do.

“What are you getting at?”

Betty grins and shrugs her shoulders before walking down from the platform and crossing over to him with her hands folded behind her back.

“Well, a couple of months ago you’d be biting and scratching to get your way. You didn’t think it was fair what was happening to _you_. But **_now_** … it’s not really about _you_ anymore, is it? Maybe it’s time we change the terms to our agreement that is more in favor of the things you **_do_** care bout now.”

Monty presses his lips, not quite sure if a mistake is being made to acknowledge her words aren’t far from the truth. And so he stands his ground, and lifts his chin when she stops just a few steps away from him,

“I’m listening.”

——

Kim struggles to find any comfort in her home when she knows in just a few hours she’s expected to return to Global Justice for another mission. She keeps herself busy on her bed, laptop open and reading through articles and files that see her lose her appetite even when the aroma of dinner started to trickle into her room.

The sound of knocking jolts her and when her eyes shift to the window she can see Monty’s figure waiting outside of it. She’s surprised to see him after he had made it apparent that he wouldn’t be returning here anytime soon. Still, she closes the computer and moves to open the window for him.

“I **_do_** have a front door, you know.” Kim takes his hand as he climbs in, grinning as she can’t pass up the chance to throw that line his way.

She can see his smirk in return, even in the dimly lit room where he quickly closes in on her. “Door... window... it’s all the same to me.”

Kim smirks and shakes her head at that response while she backs up from his stalking form, feeling the back of her legs hit her bed which sees her sit down upon it. His hand threads into red strands, gripping it just enough to see her look up at him. Her own hands rest on his thighs and for a moment she fears just what he intends to do. What she’d _allow_ him to do.

“Are you okay?” She knows she’s probably ruining the sudden and heated moment, but Monty showing up here isn’t at all routine. And even if it doesn’t appear that something is wrong, she can’t help but question his sudden visit.

“I’m fine.” He smiles and for the first time in a long time it’s... big. _Genuine_. His hand removes itself from her roots and instead slides down to lift her chin, “Can I steal you away for a bit?”

Surprised at the request, she nods her head and takes hold of that wrist before standing back up, “Yeah, um, you sure you don’t want something to eat first?”

“Food can wait. Come on, I’ll meet you out front.” He gives her a warm peck before pushing her hips gently in the direction of her door and turning to head back towards the window. She’s surprised at how eager he is. How... _excited_ he seems. Kim obeys his wishes and heads down the steps and out the door, shouting to whoever will hear her that she’ll be back soon. She’s nearly at the end of the driveway when strong hands grab her midsection and sweep her away, quite literally off her feet.

Laughing, she holds onto his shoulders until she’s settled back on her feet, accepting another warm kiss delivered to her by the man cloaked in darkness.

“I’m not complaining but... what’s gotten into you?” She smiles up at him, tucking herself closer when his arms snake around her.

“You’re not going to Las Vegas,” he answers softly, “you’ve got the night free… and so do I.” 

Kim knows that should be good news, but she can’t help but frown at him, “Monty... what did you do?”

“I just asked... _nicely_.” He adds with a smirk, “And then Betty and I had a little chat.”

“Monty you shouldn’t have done that. You didn’t know how she was going to react–.”

“I know, I know, but it worked out.” His grip on her tightens and he looks over his shoulder to her house before wetting his lips and staring back down at her, “When was the last time I got you to myself?”

“Hey, focus.” Kim takes hold of his jaw, knowing exactly what he’s implying and what he’d like this all to lead to, “Come in for dinner. This could be our chance to plan something.”

“Well, we may not need to plan anything at all.”

Kim furrows her brows, her eyes glancing to the ring on his neck as if it might not be there anymore with how optimistic he’s sounding. But it’s still there, and so Kim rests her hands on his chest and pushes back to put some space between them, “What do you mean?”

“Betty is offering me a new contract. You and I are both excelling, obviously, and so she’s going to reward us for that. We’ll get more time together, see fewer cases… and there’s something else, as well.” Kim stares up at him, still trying to decided if she’s worried or happy for his next words, “She’s going to clear my criminal record on behalf of my work with the agency. Everything standing against me… it’ll be gone.”

“Monty that’s… _amazing_.” She can see how thrilled he is, and it’s hard for her not to match such happiness, but she knows all too well that it sounds too good to be true. And so her hand reaches back up to feel the ring on his neck, “And… she’ll remove this?”

His smile falters then, and he shakes his head as if confused by the question, “Well… no. If she did that I’d have no reason to stick around.”

Kim frowns then, and finds that her suspicion was right: it was too good to be true.

“Kim, this _is_ good news. Forget about this _thing_ for a minute.” He draws her closer to him then, “Everything standing against me will be cleared. The problems that solves for you and I… we will _never_ get this chance again.”

She struggles to find the right words here, afraid to upset him more than anything, “I know you said you wanted to change, Monty, but… having those records erased isn’t going to do that.”

“It’s not about that, Kim. This is about _you_. We both know that everything that’s happened between us has been strange, and exhausting, and sometimes… painful. But beyond all of that there is one thing that neither of us can deny: **_I_** want you, and **_you_** want me.” He pauses then, looking away as if debating whether or not to continue with his honesty, “I don’t what normal looks like for both of us, but one day you’re going to want it. You’re going to want to walk down the street with a man and not have to worry about who might recognize him or how many felonies he has in the territory that he’s in.”

Kim is on the verge of tears, listening to him and wondering just what has happened to make him believe that she could ever want something that would in turn… hurt him. She shakes her head and pulls away from him then, “Those sound like Betty's words. Not yours.”

“It doesn’t matter who they come from; they’re _true_ , Kim. If keeping this means keeping you…” he steps forward, as if to reclaim the space she’s put between them, “You came back for me in that jungle. You _trusted_ me to help you and you forgave me when I gave you every reason not to. You brought me to your friends and family, putting those relationships on the line for **_me_**. To help **_ME_**.” He towers over her, gesturing to his chest as if she was crazy to do any of those things for him. “All you’ve done is help me. Now, let me help _you_. Let me make it so that everything you’ve done wasn’t in vain.”

A tear escapes and she’s quick to wipe it away, feeling overwhelmed by the mix of emotions wreaking havoc inside her chest. Warmed by his feelings for her that stand proudly in the light now, but crushed by the idea that hers can only be returned for a man that isn’t… _him_.

“That’s… that’s not true, Monty. These ideas she’s putting in your head… she doesn’t _care_ about us. She just wants to keep us working. To keep us happy enough so that we stop fighting. Signing that contract is _letting_ her win.” She moves into him and takes his hand, peering up at him with bleary green eyes, “You and I can still win.”

He doesn’t seem as convinced by those words, and he lets her know it, “The win is for **_all_** of us… even if you can’t see it right now.”

“I’d argue I’m the _only_ one seeing this for what it is.” Now frustrated and deeply confused by what Monty has sprung on her, she moves away but this time to walk back to the house.

“Kim.” She hears him call to her, but she keeps walking, knowing that there’s a good chance she won’t make it to that door before he gets ahold of her. Just as she surmised, he’s there to stop her before she gets a chance to reach for the knob. The two of them stand beneath the porch light and Monty keeps hold of her elbow previously caught in his hand to keep her where she is.

“Kim, not even _you_ can ignore the point here. Even if we _did_ succeed, if we got out of this, if we did _‘win’_ , then what? Then we go back to reality, and the reality is that **_you_** are Kim Possible and **_I_** am Monkey Fist. That slate will _never_ be clean.”

“It doesn’t need to be! I would _never_ ask that of you.” She shoves his chest then, only hard enough to release his grip off of her, and to hopefully knock sense into his head, “This didn’t start by you being anyone else but who you _are_. Betty doesn’t **_know_** what I want.”

“This is what ** _I_** want.” He takes a palm to his chest in a flare of frustration, his voice nearly raised enough to draw attention from inside.

Kim frowns at the outburst, taking a step back from him and shaking her head. “Yeah? You want to keep cutting off ring fingers, and paralyzing agents who were smart enough to get out of this in the first place?”

The expression on his face changes then. First shock, then shame. She knew exactly what he was going out there and doing, and perhaps he always knew she did. Still, it wounds him to hear it out loud, “I thought I told you not to go look–.”

“And I think I’m starting to understand _why_. You _know_ it’s wrong and…maybe you just don’t want to be talked out of it.” Kim sets her jaw and turns to open the door, but a hand snatches her wrist and pulls her back to a heated glare.

“Do **_not_** keep walking away from me.”

“Or _what?_ ” She yanks her hand out of his grip and meets his gaze, “You going to hurt me, too?”

She walks through the door then where her dad appears looking both parts excited and concerned. The man couldn’t have picked a worse time to intrude.

“Monty, you here for some dinner?” James greets kindly despite having just encountered the two of them arguing.

“No, he’s ** _not_**.” Kim answers over her shoulder, escaping up the steps and leaving Monty to step forward,

“Kim-.” But she’s out of his sight within moments and he’s left shaking his head and rubbing his temples in frustration.

“Everything alright?”

Monty scoffs and looks at her father, “No. Not really.”

“You know, I was hoping you’d come by sooner. Can we uh… chat?” Her father nods towards the garage then, and Monty can’t hide his displeasure in that request, thinking it might be another lecture coming his way. Just _another_ thing up against him.

“Certainly.” He grumbles, taking one last look at the steps inside of his home before he closes the door and leads him around the house.

“I’m guessing you never got around to figuring out what I gave you. If that’s the case, it means I did a damn good job of making it.” Her father grins at him while walking them into the garage and over to a workbench where a computer and a large monitor sit.

“I _did_ try.” Monty assures him, “I didn’t want to risk someone getting a look at it.”

“Well, it’s a mapping device. Got the idea from something they used back when morse code could be detected on radio waves. It’s how they used to catch spies. They would shut off power grids and drive around to detect any illegal signals.”

“I’m familiar…” Monty drawls, still distracted by his and Kim’s exchange.

“Right, well, militaries and agencies like Global Justice do the same thing. They send a pulse out, far more subtle– they don’t even need to shut off the power to detect any devices unregistered to their systems. This device senses those pulses and shuts off before it can be detected. Since those pulses happen frequently, it takes a while for the mapping to completely render but…”

He taps down a few keys and suddenly a 3D model displays on the monitor before them. A complete rendering of the base, it would seem, and Monty stares at it mostly speechless.

“That dot is where your device is located– I’m guessing that’s your room.”

Monty leans forward, staring hard at the image before him, “There’s the control room– what’s that symbol mean?”

“That a keycard is required. My understanding is that you don’t have one, which is why you can’t get into these rooms here.” He points to the others that have the same symbol. Rooms he knows he’s not allowed in and had never attempted to breach. Seeing this, he’s glad he never tried. “I have a feeling that tool might be hiding in one of them.”

“There’s no way to know which rooms do or don’t have them. It must… I don’t know… detect the badge in some part of the frame. I imagine it’s simply a way to kill any sort of curiosity.” Monty observes the screen further, scratching at his jaw and feeling a small burst of excitement in his chest.

“To confuse and _catch_ intruders.” Her father adds before leaning back in his seat and folding his arms. “What do you think?”

“I’m thinking I wish you had told me this about thirty minutes ago.” Monty rubs his head, turning away from the screen and thinking about Kim. “The woman in charge offered me immunity. A chance at a new life. One where I’m _not_ a criminal.”

“And the things they’re having you do? That _doesn’t_ make you a criminal?” James questions, and Monty worries for a moment that Kim’s father may know as much as she does. He figures if that was the case, he’d be far less inclined to ignore their relationship which he knows makes the man uncomfortable. A worry for another time.

“That isn’t what I mean. I walk out in public and I have to hide who I am because the instant I am recognized, the chase begins. Every move I make is calculated to retain my freedom… whether it is deserved or not. And now I have the chance to forget all of that. To walk free in the public eye. Kim deserves that. She deserves… _normal_.” He lets out a breath and shakes his head, “It’s what she _wants_ , she just doesn’t know it yet.”

“I’m not sure it’s a smart idea to **_presume_** what Kim wants. She’s a big girl, Monty. Listen, it’s not my place to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do. There’s only one thing I can say without any shred of doubt in my mind.” He rises then, stepping up to Monty who’s not quite sure what to expect. He points to his neck then and raises a brow, “You can’t live the rest of your life with **_that_**.”

Later that night Monty returns to base.

His mind is swarming with an ocean full of thoughts as he walks through the corridors, pulling at his top roots mindlessly as if to subside the self-inflicted headache. The new contract, the blueprints, his next mission that will be coming up, all of which he can hardly focus on when at the forefront of his mind is Kim. He needs to apologize to her. To make things right.

“Pick a side you monkey _freak_.”

Right on schedule, it would seem. Monty’s shoulder collides with an agent who never passes up the chance to get under his skin. This time, Monty turns and shoves hard enough at the man’s shoulders that he collides painfully into the wall.

“I am **_not_** in the mood for your childish antics.”

They both stare at each other hard, and Monty senses the man has a colorful response on the tip of his tongue. But before another word can be uttered, the two are interrupted.

“Everything alright, gentleman?”

Betty stands nearby, watching as the two linger before stepping back. The agent shakes his head, “Yes ma’am.” He shoots Monty a dirty look before fixing his uniform and walking off. Betty’s attention then turns to him when the agent is out of earshot.

“I was looking for you. I’ve just finalized your new contract. Once you’ve signed it I can get your new documents in order and sort out your records. Care to come sign it?”

Tonguing the inside of his cheek, he looks away before shaking his head, painfully grinding out the response he didn’t think he’d be making earlier that day, “I’m going to have to… decline your offer. I’ll be sticking to the _old_ sentencing.”

Betty snickers at that response, “Kim not a fan of the new terms? Makes me wonder just who’s holding your leash these days. Not that I’m surprised, really. I noticed you two have found a way to reconcile things despite all of the…unpleasantness.” She turns around then to walk away, but Monty flares at that response and steps forward with a pure hatred in his eyes.

“Oh? Are you getting that all on video, too?”

“Very funny.” She waves over her shoulder, ignoring him.

“It wasn’t meant to be.” Monty takes another step then, “I never did get to mention how incredibly **_pathetic_** it is of you to hold that over her head. I’ve met prison scum far more honorable than the likes of you.”

“ _Is_ it pathetic? Or smart?” She turns back around then, a grin on her lips, “Besides, I’m not sure you have the grounds to judge what is and isn’t pathetic the way you acted when you got that little _painting_ of yours.”

Monty growls and in a flash of anger moves to lunge towards her.

“You have no idea- **_AGH!_** ” The pain is worse this time, and the burn far more severe. He fights to stay on his feet but ultimately ends up on the ground while the current spreads instantly through his body.

“Oh I don’t think I’ll _ever_ get sick of this. You love to tower over everyone, to walk around like you’re the most important man in the room. Seeing you like this brings me _great_ joy, Monkey Fist.”

His throat muscles constrict and the veins in his head surface as he fights through the pain. Finally, it ends and he catches his breath while still on his knees. He had forgotten just how awful that feels, and he has a feeling she had turned up the notch a few levels to deliver her point.

“Go get some rest. You’re due in Seattle tomorrow morning.”

She walks away without a care in the world, leaving him to crawl towards the wall where he sits up and rests against it. He watches her turn the corner, and as the pain begins to subside, a crooked smile twitches upon his lips. His hand slips into his pocket where fingers smooth over the stolen keycard he had taken off the previous agent.


	16. Daisho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> happy new year y'all! notes will be at the bottom :)

**_Earlier that Night_ **

“You _can’t_ tell her.”

“Both of our necks are on the line if we _don’t_.”

“Monty, listen to me, Kim can’t know what you plan to do. She won’t just stand by and watch things play out. She _will_ get involved and… I don’t think that’s what either of us want.”

“And here I thought that was the one thing we could agree on: that she _isn’t_ to be underestimated.” James sighs and nods his head, folding his arms over his chest and looking over to the monitor where they’ve spent the rest of that evening mapping out their plan. “Still…,” Monty adds after measured silence, “I… won’t say anything.”

Even if he knows he’ll later regret it. Kim is already upset with him, and lying will only dig the whole deeper. Monty leans back on the workbench at the very thought, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Alright. So I get you a keycard, and you’re _certain_ you can replicate it?”

“Positive. We’ve got to act fast though, you’ll be the first one they go to once they figure out it’s missing. Once I make the duplicate, just toss the original somewhere and once someone’s found it you’ll be in the clear to go searching those rooms. It would be a lot easier if you knew what each one was. If we could get you into the right one on the first shot, we’d be in business.”

“I’ll see if I can’t figure it out.”

“Then comes the aftermath. You _still_ need to make sure you get out of there in one piece. I’m sure you’ll feel tempted to deliver justice after what’s been done to you, but you’ll need to take the quickest route out.”

“I know the way, I’ve taken it enough times. So, it's settled then.” He pushes off the bench and inhales sharply, turning to exit the garage before coming to a stop when reaching the door. He looks to the ceiling, hating himself for having to even bring it up, but he turns back to the man with an earnest lookin his eyes, “You know, James, when… _if_ … this is all done… you’re going to see a lot of unpleasant things about me. About _Kim_.”

Her father nods his head and purses his lips.

“Let’s worry about one thing at a time, okay Monty?”

**_Now_ **

He brings that stolen keycard back to James the next day, hanging around afterwards to see if he might run into Kim to make things right, but she’s not around. At least, that’s what he’s _told_. He _does_ go climbing up to her windows to make sure that’s the case, and accepts that as the truth when he doesn’t see her in her room. The process of replicating the keycard takes a couple of days longer than expected, and so while he waits, he walks through the base. Subtly he takes note of where the locked rooms are and just who is going in and out of them. Some scientists, some weapon specialists, and he also distinguishes what appears to be conference rooms for the men and women in high tailored suits that are sometimes seen walking through the corridors.

When he’s not studying the rooms, he’s waiting near the control room and hoping to see Kim either exit or enter. She never does. And so when the replicated keycard is ready, and he stops by after a mission to collect it, he takes another chance and this time rounds the garage to the front door where he rings it and waits.

He feels his heart leap in his chest when he sees the silhouette of red hair come towards the door through distorted glass, but is sorely disappointed when it’s revealed only to be her mother.

“Monty… this is a surprise.”

He’s not sure how he should feel about that greeting, and so he presses a faint smirk and nods, “I don’t mean to drop by unannounced. I was… hoping I could speak to Kim.” There’s a pause as his eyes shift to the home behind her, “Is she here?”

Her mother, Anne, grimaces then and steps out onto the porch with him while closing the door behind her. Bad news. He already knows it. “Listen, Monty–.”

“I know she doesn’t want to see me.” He doesn’t wait for her to say it, and simply gets right to the point, “But _I_ need to see _her._ ”

“I don’t know what happened between you two, alright? And it’s not my place to get into it. But… if she doesn’t want to see you, Monty, you need to give her time.”

“If I can just talk to her I can fix things–.”

“Another day, honey.” Anne gives his arm a gentle rub before she press a small and sad smile and disappears back into the house.

_Another day it is._

Even if it proves to be rather…difficult. Not seeing her… hearing her voice… _feeling_ her skin. It begins to worry him that perhaps he’s crossed a line he now can’t undo. He does continue to follow through with the plan, depositing the old keycard in a laundry bin in the locker room while hiding the duplicate somewhere safe. Things were falling nicely into place, and when a week has passed he waits for the old card to be found. He finds the processing room where the monsters had tagged him. He takes note of when the staffing is at its lightest in the base to plan for the right time for an escape. It lines up… _perfectly._

But perfect doesn’t promise anything. There are still a hundred different things that could go wrong. And because of that, he can’t delay any longer. He can’t do anything without first speaking with Kim.

So this time, he goes to her where he knows she can’t refuse him. Follows her out when she takes a night with her friends. He leaves her be for most of it, letting her enjoy her movie and the meal they share after it. It’s time he doesn’t mind wasting. Watching her. Remembering just how lucky he is… how lucky he _was_.

She’s beautiful. Everything about her. Pierre’s words echo in his head: that Monty would be an absolute _fool_ to let her go. Never has that statement felt so true until now. She is the sun in which everything and everyone ache to orbit her. What he’d _give_ to trade places with her Mercury, but who else would take his place as Pluto that exists so far from her warm rays? For a while he’s not even sure he should speak to her. To ruin her night. He wants to watch her this way forever, to think of those fingers upon his skin and the shape of her lips as she smiles. The same lips he has developed a dangerous craving for.

It should be _him_ at her side tonight, walking her down these cold streets, making her laugh as they sit in a warm restaurant, holding her hand while they watch a movie he has no interest in.

A year ago he would laugh at such thoughts. Things like that were never important to him, and he didn’t think they ever would be. But Kim… Kim took a chance on him. Kim _believed_ in him. And Kim, with no reason to, cared for him. _Him_. The retched Lord who deceives, and manipulates, and **_hurts_** those who come too close. When he looks at her he feels warmth, but it does not disguise itself well, for its truth is that it is _greed_. He looks at her and he wants her for himself; he wants no one else to feel this way for her.

And yet… he knows it’s that very thought that would see her turn away from him. That would see her leave him behind, deservedly so. The doubts and rush of joy twist and pull inside of him, plaguing his mind as he waits for his opportunity.

When they leave the restaurant, he stands across the street in his long coat where he knows they need to cross. Waiting. Kim spots him just as they make their way over, and instantly he can see that he has displeased her. Expertly she escapes her friends, a promise that she wouldn’t be long. And so Monty straightens up when finally she is within his space. At long last she is but a few steps from him, standing beneath a hardened gaze.

“What part of ‘I don’t want to see you’ was an invitation to follow me here?”

“I hoped the answer might be different today.”

“It’s not. I have nothing to say to you, Monty. You need to give me time–.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just... _listen_ to me, alright?” He stands up straight and lets out a short breath, “I didn’t sign the contract. I told Betty to forget it.”

Kim’s eyes shift to his neck then where she can see damaged skin. He’s telling the truth. And as much as she wants to point it out, she keeps her lips sealed for now.

“You were wrong when you said that those fears were put in my head by Betty. Those fears, Kim, they _are_ my own... she just amplified them. I do wonder if one day you’ll come to the conclusion that I’m not who you deserve. I... fear that because I _know_ I’m not who you deserve. You’re too smart to stay fooled forever.” He lets out a nervous laugh before clearing his throat and looking away from her, “I think we can still win, too, Kim. I’m going to do whatever I can to get us out of this.”

There’s a pause then, before he steps closer, “I meant everything I said to you. It’s… important to me that you are happy. _Safe_. You deserve so much… _especially_ from me. And not just because of the things you’ve done but–.” He pauses and swallows hard, “I care for you. In a way I wish I could put into better words. I know you don’t want to talk to me right now but… I just needed you to know that.”

Kim shifts her weight as she stands there holding her arms over her chest. She’s cold, and Monty fights the urge to go to her and keep her warm, listening when she looks up with softened features and a line of concern in her brow, “Why does it sound like you’re… saying goodbye?”

“Maybe I am.” Another step closer, silently inviting her to close the lasting distance, “To all of my bad habits.”

She scoffs and looks away at that, shaking her head, “If you did that… would there really be anything left?”

Monty smiles in return, knowing that comment isn’t to hurt him but to further prove that she knows him. _Truly_ knows him, “Just the part that wants to keep you.” His voice dips lower, and he wonders if it’s enough to lure her towards him, “That might just be the the best part of me.”

Kim sucks in her lips and looks away from him again, in the direction of her friends who haven’t made it too far without her. They have looked back, of course, interested in the mystery man she had fallen back to speak to. She won’t keep them waiting, and so she nods her head and accepts his words for what they are.

“I have to go.” Her voice is gentle, absent of the tense and hurt tone of her greeting, “We’ll talk soon… okay?”

Monty nods, not quite happy with how this conversation is ending, but he respects it nonetheless, “Okay.”

Kim steps back and watches him before she turns to go meet her friends. Her feet only carry her a couple of steps before she’s stopping. On a whim, she turns back around and walks back up to him, not saying a word as she wraps her arms around his middle and embraces him. Her head falls to his chest and it’s only then that she realizes it’s the first time they’ve… hugged. It’s an amusing thought considering all of the _other_ things they’ve crossed off the list, and when his arms are felt wrapping around her in return, she wonders just why she hadn’t done so before.

“I care about you, too.” Kim offers quietly before she forces herself away from him, feelings his hands hold onto her as long as they can before she pulls back completely.

More than ever he is compelled to save them both. To get this thing out of his neck and to get his revenge on all of those who sought to hurt them. To hurt _her_. He assured James that he would find his way out and leave it all behind, but that was **_never_** in the cards. Monty was going to make them pay. And as he watches Kim walk away with her friends, a smile is brought to his lips. He was going to make them feel a pain they’ve never known before.

He heads back to base straight away. Into his room where he rests on the bed and counts down the minutes to exactly the time he can strike. A calculated decision based off of his previous surveillance, knowing that the staff on hand in the dead of the night is scarce enough to slip through shift changes. And so when the time comes, he dresses in the agency-provided attire, clipping that dagger onto his hip and moving out of the room for what he hopes will be the last time. Like clockwork he dodges the agents moving through the halls, and ignores the ones that he knows he can’t… just as they expect him to.

Finally he makes his way to the door and slows his pace, waiting for the last agent to turn the corner before quickly taking hold of the handle and internally praying that it will work. He turns the cold metal knob, opens the door and steps into the room. No alarm. No lock. The keycard _worked_.

“Damned _genius_.” Monty compliments Kim’s father out loud, moving into the familiar space where he had been processed upon arriving. It almost feels too good to be true, spotting the tool sitting right on the center table. His heart beat turns rapid when his fingers reach for it and lift it to the level of his eyes. A grin spreads over his lips, and he brings it up to his neck, hands trembling with a rush of adrenaline.

Until suddenly a chime sounds behind him.

Looking over his shoulder he sees a monitor that displays Kim’s photo along with her information. Curiosity draws him closer, and he realizes it’s an access log. Kim has just entered the building and _that?_ **_That_** puts a damper in his plans. He can’t possibly do what he had planned with her standing by as witness. With a growl he pockets the tool and leaves the room, trying to suppress his frustration as he wanders the base looking for her. Monty doesn’t make it far until he’s turned a corner and nearly heads straight into the director herself.

“Monkey Fist.” Betty greets with surprise, staring up at him with a raised brow. Monty freezes and stands up straight, feeling his skin pale slightly. “You’re just who I wanted to see.”

Those are words he never wants to hear. Of course, he can’t act that way now. He has to go along with it, and not for his own sake but for Kim’s. With a short inhale he nods his head, “Another assignment, I presume?”

“Well, no. Not exactly. Walk with me…” she starts off without him, and Monty fists his hands and follows closely after, “Kim has just arrived, you know.”

“Well, thanks to you, I doubt she will be wanting to see me.” A white lie considering they had spoken cordially just hours ago, but one that he hopes will cover the bigger secret which is tucked in his pocket.

Betty scoffs, “You love to put the blame on others, don’t you? It’s a filthy trait of yours.”

Such an accusation does appall him. Not that she is wrong, only that it is _her_ stating such a claim, “You don’t **_know_** a damn thing about me.”

“I know enough.” Betty retorts, “And I have high hopes that very soon I’ll be learning even more. It intrigues me that you spent your whole life dedicated to Tai Shing pek kwar, hunting for a promised power and a title to follow it. Then, once you had it: _nothing_.” She stops and turns to him then as they reach the door to the control room, hands folded behind her back. “Why is that?”

“Don’t you think if I knew the answer to that, I would have been a little more _successful_?”

“I think you worried too much how to make it work more than you did wondering _why_ it wasn’t working. Ron Stoppable didn’t appear to have any issues–.”

“I couldn’t care less about what that idiot managed.” Monty growls out the thought in his head before he could consider keeping it there. Betty stares at him and smirks, nodding her head.

“Well, I took the liberty of looking into it. I mean, we did almost get it to work didn’t we? When you first came here. I wondered why that was, and I think I’ve found my answer.”

She opens the doors and Monty follows through, a sneer on his lips, “Oh? And pray tell, what is **_that?_** ”

“Motivation.”

The moment he walks through and spots the head of red hair, his breath is stolen from him. A large fist is delivered to his stomach, forcing him to his knees to find air again while feeling hands grab at his dagger and rummage through another pocket.

“Monty!” He hears Kim’s voice call to him, but it is blocked out by the familiar voice just above his shoulders.

“I **_knew_** it was you. _Scum_.” He finally looks up to see the very agent he had stolen they keycard from, deliver the tool to Betty who doesn’t appear to be all too surprised.

And just like that… his plan had failed.

“Conspiring against us, Monkey Fist? To be honest, I’m surprised it took you so long. Maybe there’s a bigger part of you that does enjoy what you’re doing.” She looks to Kim then, giving her a smile, “I assume you knew about this?”

Monty is grabbed by two pairs of arms and brought to his feet, looking to Kim who looks completely clueless as she struggles to think of an answer.

“It was my idea.” Monty listens to her lie right through her teeth, and it gives him enough anger to finally find his voice again,

“Kim, ** _stop_**.”

She’s trying to protect him from a punishment they both know is coming.

“Well then, I suppose I won’t feel as bad now.” Suddenly Kim is grabbed as well, forced down onto her knees with a fist in the roots of her hair that force her head to the side. She lets out a cry that she attempts to suppress, and it quickly sends Monty into a panic.

“She’s lying, she had nothing to do with it!” He tries to work his arms free and is nearly successful until a quick shock is felt to his neck. He drops down as well, his worry drowning his lungs as he looks back up and sees Betty keeping hold of Kim with the tool pointed at her neck.

“As if I could ever believe _you_. Kim and I have both experienced first hand just how deceiving you can be. Why don’t you tell her one more lie for good measure? Tell her that this is painless. That she _won’t_ feel a thing–.”

The cool metal tip just barely kisses her neck, and the moment it does Monty finds the strength to rise back to his feet, shoving both men who hold him captive hard enough to throw them back across the floor. The whites of his eyes glow red, and the beautiful cerulean rings now drown in black.

He takes a step forward, watching the room around him lose all color and submit to the crimson in his mind. The two men charge towards him again and Monty is ready, evading their limbs and returning his own to make sure that this time they stay down. More agents head into the room, but he need not fret. His body acts in placement of his mind. Fluid in his movements that are far more powerful than they have any right to be. He can hear the ribs crack of one of the men he’d thrown into a server. The burning of skin on another agent who crashes through a wall of monitors.

He hears everything. Sees everything. **_Feels_** everything.

The alarms go off, set by the small fires and smoke from live wires now skirting at the edge of the room. Some agents take the hint and leave completely, others remain unmoving on the floor. It all happens so fast, that by the time he can settle and turn to look at Kim, he sees very clearly the look on her face: one of _horror._

Betty laughs, an uncomfortable and unhinged thing. “And there it is. I was _right._ Your power doesn’t work just because you want it to, Monkey Fist. It works to _protect_ you. To protect those that need it.” She scoffs again, “To protect **_her_.** Now… enough with the display. I’d like to talk to Monty now, so we can sort this all–.”

She’s distracted enough for Kim to throw her head back into Betty’s nose, breaking it and grabbing the tool before it drops completely out of her hand. With trembling fingers she takes heavy breaths and slowly walks backwards towards Monty who is just as shocked and uncertain of just what is playing out. He can feel his power beginning to slip away then, but he holds onto it for fear of what may next occur, watching as Kim points the tool at Betty to keep her where she is.

“A stupid move, Kim. You _know_ what’s on the line.”

“I do.” Kim keeps her distance, holding the tool steady, “But I don’t care. Go ahead and release all that you have.” She takes a few more steps back, getting closer and closer to Monty. Her voice shakes when she sees Betty straighten up, wiping the blood from her nose, “See, I thought I understood before but I understand completely now: you need _him_ more than you need _me_. You won’t kill him… so there’s nothing to lose.”

Betty chuckles, her grin bearing blood stained teeth, “No. I won’t. But I _can_ hurt him, and in turn, I know that will hurt **_you_**.”

“He’s endured worse than a collar around his neck.” Kim fights back the strain in her voice, knowing she is sending a pain his way but... it’s a necessary one for now. Unless she can get to him before it’s too late.

Betty lifts the trigger up then and her grin widens, “You’ve both seen _nothing_ yet.”

She hears his cry before she can turn to look upon him. His eyes still red as he tries to fight the attack on his body, hopeless as he ultimately crumbles down to the floor. She can physically see the electric bolts that travel a few times from his neck and over his body. She knows if she touches him, she will only be joining him in such torture.

Kim doesn’t think twice before sprinting and lunging at the woman in a battle for the controller in her hand. She can’t think of a time she has fought so hard and felt so helpless. Betty is an expert, a professional, who doesn’t lose easily. All Kim can think about is the longer she holds onto that trigger, the longer Monty suffers nearby.

Monty who watches Kim struggling against Betty and fights against the pain to try and get to them… to no avail.

Somehow he thinks being doused in gasoline and set aflame would be far more welcoming than this. His body shouldn’t be able to take this, and he fears that he won’t last before he can get to Kim and help her. And no matter the pain, no matter the ending he’s now faced with, he _will_ get to Kim. He fights against the spasms of his muscles, of the shock to his system, and he claws at the ground, slowly crawling over to where he can make out her red hair. He’s nearly able to get to the body of the agent who had confiscated his belongings, and once he does he realizes that he won’t be able to move much further.

Suddenly Betty throws Kim to the ground and keeps here there with strong hands wrapped around her throat and hips that pin her own down. Kim struggles to stay conscience after having her head hit the floor hard from Betty’s takedown. Tears threaten the corner of her eyes as she listens to Monty’s cries of agony, and the growls that battle their way out as he looks to be trying to make his way over to her. She wishes she could tell him to stop. To tell him that she’s sorry. That all of this is _her_ fault. There’s so much she wants to say but her oxygen is quickly cutting out with the fingers closing off her air supply.

And then suddenly… it stops.

Kim notices the silence then, taking one last chance to look over at the monkey master who lay on his stomach motionless. She can even see the burns now on his neck and jaw, a sight that has her attempting to call his name while she still has the breath to do so, “Monty–”

She realizes then… neither of them are going to make it.

And for a moment Kim fears that she won’t see Monty where either of them are going.

And so she takes one last look at him. Seeing the pain on his face and wishing the last image of him could be something else. When he called her beautiful in the back of that car. When they stood in front of a fire and kissed for the first time. When they stayed up all night in Japan and he looked at her as if she were the very greek goddess they spoke of.

Her eyes close, thinking of those moments and wishing she could go back to any one of them to save him from this fate. But when her eyes open one last time, she can hardly believe what she sees. Monty in his last effort is able slide the dagger, taken from the agent on the ground nearby, right towards her. Kim doesn’t think twice before she grabs it, and looks back up at the woman stealing away her life.

In one fluid motion, the knife is shoved into the director’s ribcage, instantly easing the grip at her throat. When she leans back to look down at the dagger sticking out of her, Kim takes the opportunity to roll her off and to gasp for air as she kneels on the ground holding her neck. The very moment she’s able to, she heads over to where Monty lays, carefully moving him onto his back and covering her mouth when she sees the result of what was done to him. Thick and gruesome burns creep from beneath his collar and towards his face. His clothes are partially torn and burnt on the one side where the injuries continue.

Yet… he’s _breathing_ , and his eyes are lidded. He’s **_alive_** … and it’s that fact that allows Kim to feel some sort of relief. That very thought is all that matters, and so her hands sit over his chest, feeling the labored movements as it rises and falls. “Just rest, okay? You’re going to be okay.” Tears sit in her eyes, and she blinks them away while her fingers carefully touch the flesh near the burned lines in his skin. “It’s… it’s over now.”

For a moment she sees those blue eyes glance at her, before they ultimately obey her instruction, and meet the black abyss of nothing.

——

A couple of days later, Monty wakes up in his bed.

His bed. In _France_. Where he hadn’t been for _months_. He knows it before his eyes can open, feeling the familiar silk against his skin, the faint smell of his cologne and the gentle pattering of monkeys that move through the castle. _Home_. The thought alone keeps his eyes shut, enjoying that reality for as long as he can before the memories creep back into his head. Triggered by the pain that begins to pulse in his neck…his face…and the whole right side of him. A pain that grows worse until it forces him to a sitting position with eyes shooting open. His hand moves to the spot on his neck where that ring had burned, but all he feels is bandaging upon it.

“<Relax, Monty. You’re safe.>” A familiar voice. He looks over to see Kaida tending to a tray of tea, turning to bring it over to him. “Well, safe from Global Justice, that is. I’ll make no promises on Michaela.”

Blue eyes shift to where her gaze turns, and he sees her wife, the very woman she speaks of, sitting on his sofa further in the room with…Pierre.

“He’s safe.” Michaela confirms, rising alongside the frenchman and heading over to see him, “Besides… I can’t think of a better justice. Now you’re just as ugly on the _outside_ as you are on the ** _in_**.”

“Now now, be nice, eh?” Pierre grins, all while Monty looks down at himself to see that nearly half of him is wrapped in bandages. He fears what hides beneath them, “What is it that the Americans say? ‘ _Chicks dig scars'_.”

“Alright everyone give the Lord some space.” Bates enters then, with another tray that appears to be food. Monty remembers the last time he had seen him…and the things he had said. When the tray is set on the bed beside him, Monty frowns.

“Bates… I’m so sorry–.”

“Save the apologies for later. How are you feeling?”

“Awful.” He answers honestly, looking at the people around him for a moment and asking the obvious question, “Why… why are you all here?”

“Because you nearly died, Monty. Would you have rather woken up alone?”

“No… no it’s not that.” He shakes his head, leaning back into the pillows with a grimace, “Where’s Kim?”

“Doing what she does best: cleaning up a mess. You two really brought the ugly into the light.” Kaida brings over a cup of tea, setting it at his bedside table. “Good news might be coming your way. The government will do whatever they can to keep what happened under wraps.”

“But until then… we needed to get you out of the States. Back into French jurisdiction. We promised Kim we would do just that, and make sure you were taken care of.” Bates adds in, folding his hands behind his back and standing at the other side of his bed.

Monty shakes his head, realizing that there are days missing from his mind. He had been seriously injured, but it appears to have been worth it. It appears that they may have just… won. And so he moves to peel the covers off of him, “When will she be here?”

“You need to rest.” Kaida gently takes his good shoulder and presses him back down into the pillows. “You have good people taking care of you. Kim will come when she’s ready.”

Monty obeys that order and allows himself the rest his body demands. Between using his power for the first time, and enduring the violent attack of electricity, it’s a wonder he was only out of it for a few days. Bits come back to him in the coming days as he tries to leave the bed and test his body, but he is forced back down often times. He learns a little more about the aftermath of what had happened. Of Kim getting Wade to send over Kaida and Michaela who got him out of the base before the FBI could arrive and investigate the scene. Of the doctor who had stopped by to dress and diagnose the burns on his skin and the potential damages lurking beneath.

A couple of weeks later, when he is finally able to walk without any assistance, he stands in the bathroom and stares at himself in the mirror. Removing the bandages slowly to find just what is hidden beneath. Long jagged burns the trail over the right side of his body, stemming from his neck. Kim has already seen him like his, and it is difficult not to worry that perhaps the sight of him may just keep her away. It’s a thought he won’t allow to poison his mind. And though he aches for her dearly, to see for himself that she is indeed safe and out of the clutches of Global Justice, he can only wait.

Another week passes, and he is able to make it down the stairs from his room. Kaida, Michaela, and Pierre had all left days before after having stayed with him each and every day. Keeping him company, helping him heal, and distracting him with banter– it’s only when they are gone that he realizes how good it feels to not be so… alone. Still, he endures. He wanders around the castle, and one morning finds himself in the armory where he stares down at the two swords Kim had once noticed a long time ago.

The daishō. A set of samurai swords encased in black.

His fingers move to trace over the length of the cover, knowing he will need to clean his fingerprints from it later, but remembering that her own were once upon it and for now that feels to be just enough to get him by.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

Monty looks over his shoulder at the sudden voice from behind him and to his surprise, he sees Kim leaning agains the door frame, watching him with a small smile.

“Kim…”

“Then again…I think I’d be more worried if you actually were following doctor’s orders.” She pushes off the frame and walks towards him, her hand holding her arm sheepishly as she carefully approaches. He can’t help but feel shocked to see her. Overwhelmed with a joy that she’s… okay. “So… on a scale of 1-10, in how much pain are you in?”

The monkey master doesn’t miss a beat, “Zero.”

Kim practically throws herself at him when he answers, wrapping her arms around his neck andher legs around his torso. Monty accepts, squeezing her close even while he fights off a groan of pain that ultimately comes out. She smiles into his neck and cards her fingers into his black hair,

“ _Liar_.” She whispers to him, carefully squeezing him just a little harder. Kim is surprised that he doesn’t hold onto her for long, setting her back down but to claim her face within warm hands.

“Are you okay?” The sincerity of his question warms her more than his heated palms, and Kim nods in response.

“I’m okay.” She promises, reaching to grab the front of his robes. Her fists curl into the fabric, keeping him close, feeling his hands move down to her neck as if to search for the marks left by Betty. “Hey.” Her hands collect his own, bringing them down to keep her own company. “It was just another Friday for me.”

That sees him break his concerned face, even if only a little, “Is that _meant_ to be a comfort?”

“We can pretend it is,” Kim offers a weak smile, her brows drawing up as she watches him quietly, “Monty.. I am so-.”

But Kim doesn’t get to finish that sentence. Monty leans down and kisses her, warm and firm as if he might not get another chance. She didn’t realize just how badly she wanted this. **_Needed_** this. After everything he’s done, everything he’s _said_ , and just what he was willing to endure to protect her. To protect _them_. The emotion of it all is overwhelming, especially as her fingers drift over the new scars that stretch over his ribs and above. She breaks the kiss to hold back a sob that springs in her throat.

“I’m sorry– I... I would never do anything to hurt you-.”

“I know, Kim.”

“No- I...” she shakes her head, as if certain that he doesn’t fully understand her considering how nice he’s being. Her hand slides up to his chest, sitting over his heart, “I meant in here, too.”

“You are safe, and sound, and **_free_**. Trust me when I say that I am void of any such pain.”

The two stand there for a long while, wrapped in each other’s arms and enjoying the few moments of simply existing. Soon after, Kim pulls back and slips her hand into his own, carefully leading him out of the armory and towards the large room where this all began. She explains at his request just what had happened in the base. The destruction of the control room, the ring in his neck that had burned out by the high voltage, and the talks with the FBI over what will happen now that Global Justice has been proven to be corrupt.

“And Betty?”

“On track to make a full recovery. _Behind bars_ , that is.”

Monty sighs happily at that, “I… can’t believe I feel _relieved_ at that news. It’s what she deserves... to rot there.” He pauses then, looking over at her, “I’d never wish for… **_that_** to be on your conscience.”

 _Killing_ her, is what he means.

“Neither did I.” Kim admits, sounding just as relieved, “I just... thought about what you said to me all that time ago… when you insisted I be carrying around a sword with me.”

“And since when do _you_ listen to me?” He turns to look at her, squeezing her hand and watching her eyes as they cast upon him something sincere.

“I _do_ listen to you.”

He smiles down at her, pausing as they reach the room but looking past her and into the large mirror nearby. Monty’s fingers slip from her hold and he moves to stand in front of it for a long while, staring at what he has now become.

“Michaela said that I finally look as ugly on the outside as I do on the inside.” Monty scoffs, his fingers tracing where the scar stops on his cheek.

“You know what I have to say about that… don’t you?”

He turns around then, meeting the green eyes that watch him with awe. He presses an impossibly small smirk and nods his head slightly, “I do.” He pauses then, taking a deep breath, “But I’d still like to hear you say it.”

Kim closes the space between them, her hand again slipping inside of his robe where mangled flesh sits over his ribs. “You’re not… on _either_.” And she means that. She means every syllable.

“I’m not sure if it’s a blessing for _me_ or a curse for _you_ that you see me that way.”

“Does it have to be either?”

“No. I suppose not.”

Kim leans further in to place a kiss over his chest, peppering the warm skin encouraged by a hand that cups the back of her neck to keep her close.

“I fear any moment I will wake up and this will all have been a dream.”

“And if you do, I’ll be waiting there for you, too.”

Delighted by those words, Monty leans down to collect her lips, kissing her gently until his movements turn intentional. He picks her up with ease and turns to set her on a nearby table, carelessly knocking over the trinkets set upon it. Kim welcomes him between her legs where he presses his hips firm, his hands sliding around her back even as his own begins to throb with pain.

Kim suspects by his labored movements and sharp breaths that sound almost pained, he may not be ready for what they both want in that moment. When she breaks the kiss to tell him such, her eyes catch something further in the room that see her gently pry his mouth off of her neck which was found in the absence of her lips.

“Is that it?” She gently pushes off of the table, brushing her hand over his chest to ease nerves she knows are rattled now that the fun has ended so abruptly.

Monty turns to see just what has piqued her interest, and watches as she approaches one of the sofas where the painting sits. He had forgotten about it. So distracted with Kim and Global Justice. He remembers Betty’s assurance, that she would one day share the address with him… but after all that has happened, he’s certain the odds of that are non existent.

“Someone sent this to you?”

Monty follows her at a distance, a frown on his face as he realizes that the truth must come out, especially as everything they’ve endured was because of _this_. He sits down on the sofa across from it, watching as she marvels at the colors and textures of the painting:

A monkey in a suit beside another one in a dress…both at an opera house.

Kim turns to look at him then, seeing the twist of emotions on his face. He remains silent as if lost in a world far from their own.

“You know… you don’t have to tell me, but… this obviously means something to you and… I _would_ like to know.” She joins him on the sofa then, her hand sliding over the top of his own and scratching lightly at knuckles littered with old scarring.

“I want to tell you… it just… it will sound ridiculous when I say it out loud. I ignored you for months–.”

Her hand reaches up to cup his cheek then, turning his head so that their eyes can meet, “It’s important to _you_ … which means it’s important to _me_.”

Monty sighs and softly moves his head out of her gentle hold. He couldn’t possibly deny her, but the words feel stuck in his throat. He’d been clutching onto them for so long that it in some ways it frightens him to finally… let them go.

“My mother...was a painter. It’s what she was born to do. And as you know, she was...trapped in that house by my father. The way he treated her and kept her locked away was enough to see her do the smart thing and… _leave_. But before she did she would...often paint me things. Monkeys, mostly, as my bedroom was above just where they were being housed in the labs you saw. The sounds… they would keep me up at night. I think she tried to show me them in a light that I wasn’t able to see. To keep me from going insane, surely.”

He takes a moment then and pauses, looking over the painting quietly, “Before she left...she was working on another one. It was only half finished when she let me get a look. ‘A monkey at the opera with an old flame’ is what she said.” He scoffs and tries not to think about how insane he sounds, “it was gone along with everything else when she made her escape. I assumed my father burned it with the rest of her creations.”

He rises then, grunting at the pain and moving over to where the painting sits so that his fingers could drift upon it, “My mother is dead, Kim. She has been for years now. I don’t know who could have possibly sent this to me. I don’t know if it was meant to be a threat or… something else.”

They both allow silence to fill the void between them. Kim sits there and watches him, her heart utterly throbbing for the man who has proved to have that same muscle in his chest as large as anyone else’s.

“You really loved her.” Kim observes out loud, finding herself quietly happy that the man who had endured so much had indeed known such love in his life.

“I still do.” He confirms, “She was good to me. I realized not long ago that… she would not have been proud of things I’ve done. Of the _man_ I’ve become.” His hand falls from the painting then, “I should have simply been grateful to have another piece of her back in my life. Instead I let it tear me apart.”

Kim rises and shakes her head, moving over to him and placing a hand upon his back, “Changing isn’t easy, Monty. But you _are_ trying and I can tell you with all of my heart that your mother would be **_so_** proud of you. And not because of the mistakes you’re trying to correct or the life you are trying to lead… but because you are being exactly who you are. Who you _want_ to be. And you haven’t given up…even when it has felt like the only choice.”

“She would adore you.” He turns to face her then, cupping her face back in his hands. Kim flushes at that remark, smiling bashfully beneath his gaze, “ ** _I_** adore you.”

Kim’s hands slide over his wrists, feeling the pulse of his veins there that offer a rhythm she could listen to forever. Her eyes almost slide shut as she presses closer to him, and more than ever does she want to kiss the lips that utter words she didn’t know she dreamt to hear.

“Now, can we _please_ go upstairs so I can introduce you to my bed?”

Kim laughs then, suddenly finding herself fighting his hands that seek to grab hold of her with no real effort, “But the painting–.”

“I’ve accepted that it is a mystery I may just never solve. **_You_** , on the other hand–.”

She laughs again at his attempts before finally escaping his clutches and placing her hands at his chest to get his attention, “And what if I told you _I_ solved it?”

He gives her a blank stare at that, not quite sure just what she means. “Well, _Wade_ did, really. I asked him a long time ago and I came to the base that last night to tell you that he found it.” Her fingers tremble with both anticipation and nervousness while she retrieves the folded paper from her pocket, holding it up to him. “I… just ask that… you go _only_ when you’re ready.”

Monty stares at the paper for a long time. He’s shocked. Shocked that after accepting he would never know, he has been given the chance to see his questions answered. Shocked that everything he had done to the girl before him, she still went out of her way to do this. To make him happy.

Silently he reaches up and takes hold of the paper and the hand that holds it. He leans down and kisses that hand, gently taking the address from her before turning to set it down next to the painting. “It can remain a mystery a little longer. Right now… you have my _full_ attention.”

It’s not the sort of response Kim expects, especially after what he had just shared, but it’s one she can appreciate. Briefly grabbing the flap of his robe, she tugs it gently and begins to walk backwards, letting it go to turn around and look over her shoulder with innocent eyes glazed with deviance.

“In that case… I believe you have an introduction to make.” Kim offers sweetly, hiding her excitement when she sees him grin like a mad man.

And so with no other word exchanged, Kim leads the way.

And with no further doubt, Monty follows.

**THE END.**

**(Epilogue to follow)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there WILL be an epilogue so stay tuned! but yes, that is indeed the end. that's the 2nd fic I've ever fully finished and it feels pretty good. when I first started this story I thought it was going to go in a completely different direction, but I have to say I'm glad where it went in the end! thanks to those who stuck around for it all and for being so patient! and for those that commented, im really really grateful! 
> 
> Ill now be able to give my other kimfist fics a little more love! and who knows... one day down the line this might just have a sequel.
> 
> see you in the epilogue :)


	17. Epilogue: Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here it is! The epilogue. I actually wrote most of this way wayyyy back which is why it's being posted so fast lmao. It's a habit of mine that I usually write the end at the beginning. Anyway, thank you all again for reading this, commenting, kudos, etc. It was a lot of fun to write and as I mentioned previously... who knows? Maybe a sequel will come one day ;).

**_Yvoire, France_ **

_2 Months Later_

The drive is only an hour from his castle, and while he won’t say it out loud, it does bother him that after all of his effort the answers had been right under his nose the whole time. Kim insists on driving them, fearing he may be too distracted to operate anything else but his body. And so the ride is silent save for the gentle music Kim puts on to fill the void between them. He’s nervous, having had second thoughts the night before, wondering if it’s better to just… never know the truth.

_‘Whatever you decide, I’ll be right there.’_

She keeps that promise, dressing in a flattering black dress with a cream colored collar that morning, somewhat matching the all-black suit Monty dons. Kim insists they dress their best, wanting to give their receiver a good first impression no matter who they are.

_‘Just be nice. Hear them out first, okay? Give them a chance to explain.’_

Monty promises he would, even if he knows just how difficult that will be. With her at his side, however, he knows that under her influence he will be the ever-polite Lord just as he had been the past couple of months. Months the two spent together, getting their lives on a far more… _normal_ track. His burns heal, but for now that is as far as his recovery goes. The scars that sit over his skin bother him more than he’d like to admit, but Kim looks at him no different. Her lips still taste him the same, and her words reaffirm that every chance she gets.

_‘You look so handsome…’_

How he had managed to keep her… he will never truly understand. They both have so much still to figure out, outside of the sex and feelings they share for one another– two aspects they feel they are mastering just fine. Briefly they had spoken of a proper introduction between him and her family, but there was no leaving France without tying up one last loose-end.

And here they were. In Yvoire, France. Parked outside of the admittedly beautiful cottage just near the water. Kim turns the car off and looks over at him, watching as Monty sits unmoved in the passenger seat with eyes set on the building ahead. Her hand reaches over to squeeze the one on his lap, drawing his attention over to her.

“I can stay here, if you want. If you need to do this alone.” She offers softly, dragging her thumb over his knuckles. His gaze looks back to the home and he shakes his head,

“No. No, I need you there with me. I... don’t know what to expect.”

“That makes two of us.” Kim leans in to kiss his cheek just where the tip of his scar ends, giving one last stroke of her thumb over the back of his hand, “I’m ready when you are.”

He nods and the two part to step out of the car and into a less chilly breeze than what they were enduring up near his castle. Kim waits as he rounds the car and takes hold of her hand, leading them both to the front door when Monty checks the number on the side to be certain that this is indeed the correct address. Once he does, he lifts his hand and knocks.

His grip on her tightens as they wait, and Kim slides her free hand over his forearm for an added measure of support. They don’t wait long before the door opens and an old man comes into view. Hazel eyes land on Kim first, confused before they turn to Monty and the man’s expression changes completely. As if… surprised. Delighted, even.

“... Monty?” His accent is English, but he can’t quite pin where it’s from.

Monty glances at Kim for a moment before looking back to the man, equally as confused, “You… know me, sir?”

“Well of _course_ I do! I... was beginning to think you wouldn’t come. Please, please, come in.” He steps to the side and holds the door open for them both. Kim is the on that takes the first step, leading Monty into the house and turning to the man to introduce herself.

“Thanks for having us, I’m Kim.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Kim. I’m Jack. Jack Palmer.” He squeezes her hand before turning to Monty and extending his, “We’ve never met but… I feel like I’ve known you a lifetime.”

Put off by such a comment, he lets go of Kim’s hand to shake the one offered, his confusion still evident on his face.

“Well? Come sit down, I’ve got the kettle on.” The man leads them into a warm front room decorated in photos and paintings and other trinkets. It’s obvious he lives here alone but… the taste of the decorations don’t exactly appear to be his.

Monty guides Kim with a hand on her lower back, following over to the sofa where they both sit and exchange an uncertain but hopeful look. Jack comes back with a tray of tea, asking the two how they both take theirs before he smiles and shakes his head,

“I still can’t believe you’re here. I was afraid the painting had never made it.” He sets the cups in front of them, and finally Monty is able to find his voice.

“Yes I was... delayed. And rather... upset upon receiving your…parcel.” He admits, not yet touching the cup while he watches the man carefully. Jack frowns and pauses as he fixes his own cup, shaking his head,

“Oh dear boy, I never meant to upset you. Though in hindsight I suppose I should have considered the unpleasantries of receiving something like that out of the blue.”

“I want to know why you had it. Why it’s finished. And why you sent it to me.” He gets to the point, his voice firm but a squeeze from Kim’s hand quickly eases him.

“Oh, of course. Of course,” Jack sits down in a seat near to them, seemingly about to answer but as he looks at Monty he seems to be… distracted. Suddenly lost in thought.

“Sorry I... can’t get over how much of your mother I see in you.”

“I told him that, too.” Kim chimes in softly, looking over at Monty who continues to be just as perplexed as before, “He thinks he looks more like his father.”

“Donovan? Sure, but ah– here.” The old man collects a book nearby while Monty narrows his eyes at him.

“You knew my parents?”

“Well, I only knew _of_ your father. But Elise? Elise… was the ** _love_** of my life.”

They both look shocked at that information, and Monty is too distracted to look at the book handed over to him. Kim takes it instead, and begins to look through the many photos of the woman hidden inside.

“ _What?_ ”

“Look,” Kim nudges his arm, pointing at a photo in the book before handing it over to him. It’s his mother and Jack when it appears they are teenagers. Monty stares at the old photo, never having remembered seeing his mother so young before and now that he does… he can agree to… some resemblance.

“It’s the same old story, you know? Boy falls in love with girl. Other boy, richer boy, gets the girl. And _not_ because he was rich. As I’m sure you know, Elise’s family was just as impressive. Donovan, however, I mean… what woman in the world could ever turn him down? She loved him and he loved her. It was only after you were born that I… started receiving letters.” Jack explains while Monty flips through the album of photos, landing on a page where he sees a photo of himself.

“Letters about you and the way Donovan was treating you both. I can’t tell you how many times I waited outside that manor, planning to take you and Elise away from him. And one day… I finally did it. She seldom took anything with her just… a half finished painting and a few photos that you’ll find in there.”

All this time… she had fled into the arms of a man who had truly loved her. Who had… taken care of her the way she deserved.

“I urged her to bring you with us. And Monty, you should know that there was nothing she wanted more in this world than for you to be here. But she was afraid of what Donovan might do. She was afraid you would be stripped of every opportunity that came with the Fiske name. When she saw you on television for the first time–.”

“Stop.” Monty closes the book then, his eyes that sting with tears he uses all of his strength to hold back, look to the man intently. “Were you good to her?”

“Y- yes. Of course. Every day.”

“Then that’s all I care about.” He sets the book down and rises then, “Excuse me.” He utters, walking towards where he had spotted a bathroom in hopes of finding cold water to run over heated skin. Before he can make it there, something catches his eye. He turns his head to see a large room at the back of the house where strong rays of light flood through the windows. His feet carry him over, opening the door to what he finds to be a studio.

It smells of paint, with tubes old and new littered around the room along with different sized canvases and mocks. He takes a few steps in, his eyes looking out to the water from the large windows and all he can think is that she would have loved this. She _did_ love it.

“She finished that painting just before she passed away. Asked me to deliver it to you. It took so long because I… I was afraid I would only do more damage.”

Jack’s voice sounds behind him, and Monty feels a sting of guilt in his chest before he turns around to look at him. Taking a shaky breath in, he shakes his head, “Quite the opposite, actually.” He swallows down the knot in his throat and offers what he can of weak smile, “Thank you for sending it to me.”

And with no warning, Jack is suddenly wrapping his arms around him and embracing him tightly. Monty stands rigid in his arms, not quite sure what to do aside from stand there and lift his hand to pat the old man’s back.

“Stay for tea, will you?” He pulls back and flattens the arms of Monty’s suit for him, “When was the last time you had and authentic English meal?”

Monty scoffs, taking a step back and shrugging his shoulders, “I should warn you, I _am_ –.”

“Yes, yes, vegetarian. Your mother mentioned that. Don’t worry, I have some things we can work with.”

And so Monty follows Jack back into the front room where Kim is still thoroughly distracted by the different photo albums, delighted when she hears of their plans to stay for a little while longer. It doesn’t hurt the way he expects it to, to listen to stories of his mother and the man they’ve just met. Over dinner, Jack asks the obvious about himself and Kim, giving them some much needed practice as they know it will be the same questions they will no doubt get from everyone else they encounter.

They keep other bits to themselves, regarding what had happened with Global Justice and even his workings as Monkey Fist. He figures it best not to ruin a good time with stories that aren’t quite laughable in hindsight just yet. Perhaps maybe…never. And when they finish their meals, Monty leans back and watches Kim and Jack speak, seeing him take to her the way that everyone else in the world does. He takes that moment to step away and to find that bathroom, moving to the sink where he washes his hands and wets his face.

Once dry, he grips the sink and leans close to get a good look at himself. Seeing the man Jack had been waiting to meet, the man that had been so lucky to find Kim, and the man who does indeed look like his mother.

In that moment… he can’t help but feel as if he has everything.

Friends, love…

And as his eyes glow red with no effort needed…

**_Power._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *eyes emoji*


End file.
